The Same, Yet Different
by escapewithstories
Summary: What if Andy took in Rusty instead of Sharon? This story is an exploration of what remains unchanged and what doesn't. CO-AUTHORED WITH IReadAndWriteSometimes
1. Chapter 1

Hello, All! escapewithstories (formerly MajorCFan) **AND** IReadAndWriteSometimes finally here with the story that we teased about so long lovely maidenpride brought this prompt to me a few months ago and asked if I or my partner in crime were interested in writing it. We both loved the idea, and after a brief discussion, thought it would be fun to take it on together. Originally, we thought that we would just cover the more significant events of the series, but as we started going through each episode, we had a really difficult time narrowing our favorite parts down. A few pages of notes turned into over a hundred, and a seemingly simple prompt turned into a monster one, but that is not to say we haven't thoroughly enjoyed [almost] every moment of writing it. We have completely written the first season and look forward to writing more if you all so wish. Some scenes are reimagined and some are completely original.

 _We have had a lot of good laughs throughout this writing process and discovered it is truly uncanny (and really creepy) just how much we think alike, or say the same thing at the exact same time. I could not have asked for a better partner, especially one I respect and whose work I truly admire, in writing this story and am truly grateful for the opportunity to do so. I can honestly say I have become a better writer because of this project and my writing partner is the reason for that. You guys are really in for a treat because some of my favorite things she has written (which is saying a lot because I LOVE everything she writes) are in this story and I can't wait for you to read it. I'm just lucky to be a part of it! I hope you enjoy the journey as much as we did writing it._

 _~escapewithstories_

 _When escapewithstories messaged me about this prompt idea, asking me of all people if I would be interested in writing it with her, you know what I did first? Squealed. Because she's not just my beta or my friend, she's my favorite writer in this fandom. To have your favorite fanfic author come to you with such a proposition? Unbelievable. The fangirl in me had a heart attack I think. One that I thankfully survived in order to be able to actually go through with it. We anticipated to struggle with dividing parts up, especially once we realized there was no way we could each just take turns writing an entire chapter, but it's crazy how easy that turned out to go. You, readers, will have to be the judge of the quality of our writing, but we had the best of feeling working on this, and so so much fun, even when we hit walls struggling to put our imaginations into words. We learned long before we started working on this that we shared many of the same ideas about the MC characters, but it has become almost disconcerting how well we worked off one another, picking up on the same themes within a single chapter without ever discussing it being just one example of it. Writing this season has been such a wonderful ride and I am just so incredibly flattered to have been a part of it alongside escapewithstories. I hope you will recognize and share in at least a bit of the fun we had along the way and that you will want to read even more!_

 _~IReadAndWriteSometimes_

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THE SAME, YET DIFFERENT - CHAPTER ONE

Andy winced when the passenger door was slammed shut with enough force to jostle his entire car. He threw Rusty's crutches onto the back seat before gently closing the door and rounding the car toward the driver's side. Once seated, he glanced at the brooding occupant of the seat next to him. He had a death grip on the knapsack in his lap, and looked intently at the glove compartment. "Buckle up, Kid," Andy said as he started the car.

Rusty shot him an almost startled look. When Andy looked back at him, the kid frowned, but finally put his seatbelt on.

"Thank you," Andy muttered. Unsurprised by Rusty's lack of a polite response, he maneuvered the car out of its parking spot and pointed it in the direction of home.

Andy didn't bother starting any kind of conversation. Rusty's glum, irritated mood was practically rolling off of him in waves, and he knew better than to give even idle chit-chat a try. Halfway home, however, there was one thing he needed to ask. "Are you hungry?"

Rusty shifted in his seat and tightened the hold on his knapsack, if that was even possible, before giving Andy a narrow-eyed look. "Why do you care?"

Andy's eyebrows lifted in surprise. He had no idea how that question managed to put Rusty on the defensive. Failing to keep all of his sarcasm at bay, he said, "Because I thought you might want to eat something." On a shrug, he threw Rusty a quick glance and added, "There are a few places on our way where I could pick something up for us."

Andy felt Rusty's long appraising look burning a hole in the side of his head, but kept his focus resolutely on the road. Finally, Rusty seemed to find whatever he was searching for, and replied in a low mumble, "I guess I could eat something."

Suppressing the urge to say, "Thank God," Andy tilted his head to the side. "Got any preferences?"

His question was rewarded with another long look, but then Rusty dropped his gaze to his knapsack and said nothing in response.

Andy frowned. Hooking a thumb around the steering wheel and stretching his remaining fingers out in a display of impatience, he asked, "Well?"

"You don't have to pretend like it matters what I want," Rusty bit out, glaring at him.

Suddenly irritated, Andy briefly considered just giving up on dinner altogether. If this was how their evening was starting, he didn't dare imagine how it might progress. He reminded himself that the kid probably had good reason to be suspicious of everyone and everything, but he still barked back a response more harshly than intended. "Look, it's just food," he said, slapping the steering wheel. "Either tell me what you like or risk me getting something only I like."

Rusty took a few more moments of silence, and Andy was just about to say more, when finally, on a shrug, he answered. "A burger sounds good."

"Ugh," Andy let out before he could catch himself.

"What?" Rusty instantly asked, on the defensive again. He even pushed himself further into the back of his seat as he looked at Andy warily.

"Nothing," Andy was quick to say, waving a hand through the air. He slanted Rusty a look over a grimace. "Any chance you like veggie burgers?"

Rusty's face transformed into an expression of disgust. "Burgers without meat?" His eyes grew wide. "You're a vegetarian?"

"Y-" Andy started, but was instantly cut off by Rusty.

"Oh, my God," Rusty was back to looking in front of himself, "you'll make me eat nothing but greens and fish, aren't you?" He flopped his head against his seat's headrest and groaned. "This day just keeps getting worse."

Andy shot Rusty a bland look. "Are you done?"

Rusty frowned at him, but made no attempt to say anything more.

"I can get you regular burgers," Andy told him, "but-"

Rusty interrupted. "I'll have to pay for them myself?" he asked, the accompanying scoff revealing it wouldn't be the first time he had to.

"What?" Andy let out in a slightly higher pitch than usual. "No." He shook his head and lowered his voice. "There are no decent burger joints on our way anymore. Unless you want me to turn around, do you mind waiting till we get home? I have a few take out menus there, you can take your pick then and," he shrugged nonchalantly, "just order in."

Rusty considered that for a moment, as if trying to determine how truthful Andy was being. "I can choose?"

It was the incredulity in Rusty's voice that kept Andy from exclaiming an annoyed affirmative answer. "Yeah, kid," he said, a little more gruffly than expected, "you can call the order in for all I care." He chanced a smile and added, "Just don't force me to eat meat burgers."

Rusty didn't laugh, but Andy did note that he loosened the grip on his knapsack a little. "Okay," Rusty agreed on a nod.

Daring to push him just a little, Andy smirked to himself. "Although," Rusty instantly narrowed his eyes at him again, "maybe you could at least try a veggie burger?"

It was the wrong thing to say because Rusty just coolly replied, "Or you could stop trying to be funny with me."

Andy sighed. Resigned, he dropped his hands to the bottom part of the steering wheel and slumped further back into his seat. Not wanting to rile Rusty up again, he fell silent, and for the rest of their ride, Rusty remained quiet as well.

. . .

Andy brought them to a stop at the door that had 715 displayed in gold-plated numbers on the front of it. He twirled his key ring twice around a single finger before catching its contents in his palm, spreading the few keys it held with his thumb to locate the one that would open the door. "So this is me," he said unnecessarily as he slipped the key in the lock and gave it a turn. He pushed the door open and held it in place with one hand, allowing Rusty to hobble through the doorway first, then he immediately followed behind.

Once the deadbolt was locked and the chain was slid into place, Andy began going through his established routine upon arriving home; his keys were tossed into a dish sitting atop the small table resting against the wall opposite from the door, and his badge and cuffs were placed next to it. His gun would remain in its holster until he could place it in its usual place on his nightstand.

He turned to find Rusty surreptitiously peering around the corner, attempting to see the remainder of the condo. "Well," he stepped around the kid, just narrowly missing the end of one his crutches, "I guess I should give you the tour."

Around the corner from the entryway, there was only two ways to go—straight ahead, or to the right. Andy decided to head to the right first, so he flipped a switch and illuminated a small passage that was almost too short to be considered a hallway, and began to move down it. "Behind there," he said pointing to a set of french doors on his right, "is the washer and dryer." With a quick glance over his shoulder, he realized that Rusty was still standing in the small foyer area, eyeing him skeptically. Andy rolled his eyes, but continued the few extra steps towards the end of the hall. "You gonna follow or not?" He didn't have to glance back again to know that the kid was following this time for his crutches made a soft thumping noise against the hardwood floor with each of his steps.

There were three doors just past the laundry room. One on the wall to the left, and two on the wall directly in front of them. Only a portion of the third door could be seen because it was slightly tucked into a little alcove that formed where the laundry room ended and the end of the hall opened up. Andy reached inside the door on the left and flipped on its light, then moving past the middle door, he turned on the light in the far right room as well.

"These are the two spare bedrooms," he said as he shifted to lean against the doorframe of the still dark room, providing Rusty a chance to see inside the others. "Pick whichever one you want, but I would go with this one," he indicated towards the room that was inside the nook of the hall, "because the mattress on the bed in that room," he jerked his thumb in the direction of the first room, "is horrible for the back."

The rooms were sparsely furnished and held little to no decorations. They each had a bed and a nightstand, but the room with the better mattress also had a chest of drawers and a slightly larger closet. When Andy had bought the condo, he liked the idea of the two spare rooms just in case his kids, who were teenagers at the time, ever decided they wanted to stay the weekend with him. Unfortunately, they never stayed over, so the rooms remained mostly empty.

"If it's so horrible," Rusty shifted his weight fully onto his uninjured leg, "then why keep it?"

Andy shrugged. "I don't have company over often enough for it to matter. Besides," a mischievous smirk crossed his face, "when Provenza comes over to watch a game and drinks too much, I throw him in that room," he adjusted his stance so that he was now standing just inside the doorway with a hand braced on the opposite sides of the frame "and that bed guarantees he doesn't take advantage of my hospitality too often."

Rusty rolled his eyes, and leaving his crutches resting against his ribs, he gripped the straps of his backpack to pull it tighter around his body. "How generous of you."

"I do what I can," Andy said and his smirk widened. "Anyways," he slapped the door frame with one of his hands, "if you want to take your chances with the crappy mattress, then by all means." His hand made a swooping gesture towards the first room.

Rusty unwrapped a single finger from around the backpack strap, and pointed behind Andy. "What's in that room?"

"This is the guest bathroom," Andy leaned back just slightly to flip on the light for a few seconds so its contents could be seen, then turned it off again, "which you will have all to yourself." He smiled at Rusty, thinking he would be pleased by that news, but the kid just stared passively at him and said nothing in response.

They both stood there for a moment longer until Andy broke the silence. "Okay then," he turned off both bedroom lights once he realized Rusty wasn't going to put his bag in one, "let me finish showing you the rest of the place."

This time when they reached intersection of the foyer and the halls, Andy guided them down the other hallway that was positioned straight off the front door. At the end, it unfolded into one large, long area that consisted of the kitchen being flanked by the dining room and living room. The space was open enough that you could see all three rooms no matter which one you were standing in. A slight turn to the right would take them to the dining table that currently had a mixture of opened and unopened mail spread across it. However, Andy directed them to the left, taking them through kitchen towards the living room that was just beyond that.

A large island stretched almost completely across the middle of the kitchen, separating it into two areas. The far side held the main cooking area with all of the appliances, plus a considerable amount of cabinets and counter space. The side that they walked along had a small bar top extending up and out from the island, and there was a row of four, equally spaced stool-height chairs pushed in underneath it.

"As you can see," Andy came to a stop at the last chair, a few steps from the entrance of the living room, "this is the kitchen." His hand arched out from his body, palm turned up, indicating the area around them. "There's really not much in the way of food in there right now," he scratched his temple with one finger, "which is why we will be ordering in."

Rusty still said nothing, and instead of stopping alongside Andy, he continued on past him into the living room. He slowly made his way around the back of the small sofa that separated the two rooms, taking in everything as he went. There was a larger couch that extended off at a right angle from the one he was walking around, and a recliner directly opposite of it. The three pieces of furniture surrounded a wooden coffee table, and had a perfect view of the sizeable television that rested on an equally big entertainment center.

The wall opposite of the room's entrance mostly consisted of large windows and a sliding glass door that lead out to a rather spacious balcony. There was just enough light from the surrounding city to see a small patio table set and a couple of chaise lounging chairs. To the left, opposite of the wall with the TV and behind the largest sofa, was that door that opened into the master suite.

Andy watched as Rusty leaned his crutches against the end of the sofa before sitting down in the middle and looking over at the small collection of framed photos sitting atop the table that was positioned between the two couches. "Those are my kids, Nathan and Nicole."

"Good for you." Rusty hugged his backpack closer to his chest and didn't bother to look back at the older man. "Just don't expect me to be grateful like them just because you're giving me a place to stay for the night."

Andy snorted. "Trust me, Kid," he walked around the island, opening the first drawer he came to and removed several takeout menus, "they're not grateful for me." He tapped the menus against his open hand and made his way to his recliner, sitting down to face Rusty.

Rusty's eyes tracked Andy's movements, his assessing look even more suspicious, if that was possible. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Andy shrugged. "Exactly what I said."

"Look, Lieutenant-"

"Andy." He slid the menus across the coffee table to where Rusty was eyeing him suspiciously. "If you're going to be staying here for a night or two, you can at least call me Andy."

"Okay, _Andy_ ," there was a hint of disdain when Rusty said his name, "I don't really care to know about your life." He leaned forward, crushing his bag between his chest and thighs. "I just want to know when you guys are going to hold up your end of the deal."

Andy's brow creased in confusion. "What deal?"

"Oh, my God!" Rusty shot up from his seated position, hopping on his good leg until he regained his balance. "To find my mother!" He threw out the hand that wasn't holding his bag up. "That Captain Raydor lady said she was supervising the search for my mom," he pointed a finger at Andy, "but you guys clearly haven't been looking for her at all."

"Rusty," Andy slowly stood, holding his hands out defensively hoping to calm the kid, "things have been a little crazy with the shuffling of our bosses," he almost groaned just thinking about everything that had transpired recently, "but if the Captain said she was looking for your mom, then it's the truth."

"I don't believe you." Rusty slung his backpack over his shoulder and limped the short distance to the end of the couch to grab his crutches. "The police are all a bunch of liars." He began making his way back the way they came.

"Rusty," Andy called, bringing him to a halt halfway through the kitchen, "I will personally assist the Captain in looking for your mom. I promise you," he brought both hands up to his chest, "if we can, we will find her."

"Right." Rusty turned and resumed his trek towards the spare bedrooms again. "I'll believe that when it happens," he mumbled to himself.

Andy followed him all the way back to the foyer, just to confirm that he wasn't trying to leave. He watched as Rusty moved as fast as possible considering he was on crutches down the short hall, directly into the spare bedroom, the one white the good mattress he noted, and slammed the door shut. Andy then heard the sound of the lock clicking into place "God," he sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand, "what a mess." He yanked at his tie to loosen the knot from around his neck as he headed back the way he just came towards his bedroom.

The door to the master suite opened to a small entryway that was much like a foyer. The door on his left that lead to the ensuite bathroom and the door directly in front of him lead to a moderate sized walk-in closet. To the right, the small foyer unfolded into the main area of the bedroom.

The room contained a king-sized bed that was flanked on each side by matching nightstands. Just to his left, along the closet's shared wall, there was a large dresser that had a few framed photographs and some of his Dodgers' memorabilia sitting on top of it. On the far side of the room, there was a wall of windows and a set of glass french doors which opened up to the same balcony that could also be reached from the living room. Unlike the sheer curtains that hung in the great room, the bedroom windows and doors had custom wooden shutters that could be closed during the day to block out most of the bright sun rays, which was incredibly convenient when he was working a long case and only had time for a short nap in the middle of the day.

Andy unclipped his gun from his holster and made his way over to the nearest nightstand. He opened the drawer and placed his firearm inside before closing it again. He then removed his phone from his pocket, intent on setting it next to the lamp, but instead groaned when he suddenly remembered dinner was never ordered. If it was just him, Andy wouldn't have bothered with eating, but since Rusty was staying with him, he didn't think that was a wise idea.

He glanced at the time on the phone, noting that it was late, but not too late. The kid had mentioned burgers, and Andy knew he had a menu from some gourmet burger place that he used one time when Provenza was over. It was a bit pricey for his liking and it usually took about an hour to arrive, but it was the only place close by that would deliver to his home, and they had a veggie burger option.

Andy walked back into the living room towards the coffee table where the menus still laid. He fingered through the small stack until he found the one he needed. He wasn't exactly sure what Rusty liked on his burger, but figured he could get something basic with all of the toppings on the side. He flipped the menu over, locating the number on the back, and made the call.

He had barely disconnected the call when his phone started ringing again. He groaned when Provenza's name flashed across the screen. "Just what I was missing tonight," Andy grumbled and flopped down onto the couch. Taking a deep breath as he stretched his feet out on the coffee table, he accepted the call by barking, "What?"

"Good evening to you, too, Miss Sunshine," Provenza said cheerfully.

"I'm really not in the mood, Provenza," Andy said, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Welcome to the club," Provenza muttered. "Who would be after Raydor swooped in on-"

"If you're calling just to complain about the Captain," Andy interrupted in annoyance, "you've called the wrong number."

Provenza just chuckled. "So the kid and you are having fun together, huh?"

Andy groaned. "I think his moodiness just might rival yours. I know the kid probably has good reason to be this distrustful of everything, but geez," he suppressed another groan, "I did not expect him to be this confrontational."

Provenza barked another laugh. "Because _you_ are always just peachy to be around, aren't you?"

Andy rolled his eyes. "Oh, just forget it." He pressed the phone to his other ear and changed topics. "So, why are you calling?" He waved a hand through the air. "Besides to annoy me?"

"To check up on you and the kid," Provenza answered truthfully. "After his little outburst with the Captain, I figured I'd see if maybe he decided to beat you with his crutches or something."

Andy laughed mirthlessly. "With the way the evening's been going," he sighed, "I think I'd prefer the crutches."

"That bad, huh?"

"Well," Andy dragged the word out, "you tell me." He looked around the room. "I'm sitting alone in my living room, and he's locked himself up in one of the spare bedrooms after throwing a fit."

"Nobody forced you to take him home, you know," Provenza answered pointedly. When Andy just scoffed into his phone, he went on. "So, what made him hide from you?"

"He's not hiding from me," Andy argued. "He's pissed off because I had no clue the Captain promised to look for his mother."

"She did?" Provenza asked in surprise.

"Apparently," Andy said on a nod. "I guess I'll find out more tomorrow."

"I can't believe she's really our boss now," Provenza suddenly said.

"Yeah, well, deal with it," Andy retorted, really not in the mood to listen to his partner rant about her again.

Provenza went on as if Andy hadn't said anything. "Taylor's throwing prosecutors our way, talking about deals and plea bargains." There was a pause in which he took a loud breath. "And then, on top of that, Raydor brings in that ass-kissing rookie Sykes. Haven't we had enough changes this week?"

"Well, we might have even more if you don't stop acting like a child," Andy snapped at him.

"Excuse me?" Provenza's voice went up a notch. "You and I both know that she has no place in our division!"

"Yet," Andy paused pointedly, "the Pope gave her one."

"Ugh," Provenza said on a grunt, "don't get me started on him." Andy looked to the heavens when he did start on him. "Did you know that he gave me an ultimatum? Either I stick it out with Raydor or throw in the badge and retire?"

"Didn't you decide to retire a few hours ago anyway?" Andy asked teasingly.

"I don't want to retire!" Provenza exclaimed.

For a moment Andy thought he'd prefer to go another round with Rusty than deal with his grumpy old partner. "Then what _do_ you want?" he asked exasperatedly.

"I don't want to work with," Provenza almost hissed the next word, "her!"

"Well, too bad. We are all gonna have to," Andy replied.

Provenza suddenly switched gears, and his voice carried a note of suspicion. "I can't believe you're okay with this."

Andy slapped his thigh in frustration as he raised his voice. "I am not okay with this! I just," he lowered his voice to a more appropriate pitch, "don't think that arguing with her is going to help matters. It certainly won't help us solve our cases any faster."

"Well," Provenza spoke petulantly, "of course it won't with her calling all the shots."

"And you refusing to cooperate will?" Andy shot back.

"I am not taking orders from that woman!" Provenza yelled out loud enough to force Andy to momentarily draw his phone away from his ear.

"Look, I don't like this any more than you do," Andy spoke calmly, although there was still a healthy amount of annoyance in his tone, "but butting heads with her won't make her any more tolerable, and it certainly won't make work any easier. Especially, since obviously both Taylor and Pope are more than happy to keep _her_ over any of _us_." He sighed before adding, "Also, I'm too tired to argue with either her or you tonight, so would you, _please_ , just drop it?"

There was a profound moment of silent defiance on the other side of the line, but Provenza finally relented and asked, "So what the hell got into you to take in a homeless kid?"

Andy sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face. That was not his idea of dropping anything. "What?" he finally said defensively, his voice going higher in pitch. "The kid didn't have anywhere to go, I have a spare bed." He shrugged. "It's not like I adopted him. He'll be out of here as soon as DCFS finds a family that will take him in."

"Ah-uh," Provenza let out sarcastically.

Andy frowned, getting even more annoyed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Provenza quickly replied. "But what if they don't find him a family? Are you just going to kick him out in a couple of days?"

"Of course I won't!" Andy exclaimed, leaning forward and dropping his feet to the floor.

"Ah," Provenza drawled, "good to know you thought this through then."

Andy opened his mouth to shoot back a retort, but quickly snapped it shut again. It really had been a spur of the moment decision. The idea to take Rusty in for the night crossed his mind briefly when he caught part of the argument between him and his new boss, but he had still been fairly certain some other arrangements would be figured out. However, once their case was wrapped up, and he saw the kid still hanging around the murder room, he finally made up his mind. It wouldn't be the first time he babysat a witness, he didn't think this time would be that much different, even if it was the first time he babysat a _teenage_ witness.

"Flynn!" Provenza's bark of his name startled Andy out of his musings. "Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here," Andy replied, irritated. "Are you done harassing me?" He was really running out of patience now.

"Actually," Provenza said, clearly amused now, "I was just warming up."

"In that case," Andy said with a hint of finality, "I'm hanging up on you. Good night, Provenza."

As he lowered his phone to find the disconnect button, he could faintly make out Provenza grumbling, "Oh, no, you're not." The rest was cut short when he finally did end the call. With a long sigh he dropped the phone onto the coffee table and sank into the couch again.

Maybe he didn't think this completely through, but it couldn't be such a crazy idea if, of all people, the former head of FID gave him her okay on this.

 _Andy walked toward Sharon's office door when he saw it open. "Good luck with Rusty," he heard Howard say as he stepped out, a big brown paper bag in his hands. He saw Sharon behind her desk smile and offer a polite "Thank you," in return._

 _Andy gave Howard an inquisitive glance as he moved aside to let the man pass, wondering what had been said about Rusty. Thinking the bag was what had Andy curious, Howard chuckled and bobbed it up and down. "Brenda's secret stash," he said knowingly._

 _Andy chuckled, too. "Not so secret, I think." There was no doubt in his mind that his former boss left that drawer full of candy there on purpose._

 _Howard merely rolled his eyes, and continued on his way. "Until the next time, Lieutenant," he threw over his shoulder._

" _Yeah," Andy said distractedly, suddenly remembering why he had been waiting for Howard to leave. "Until next time," he mumbled, lifting a hand to knock on the office door frame._

 _Before he could, Sharon asked, "Anything I can help you with, Lieutenant?"_

 _Andy mentally grimaced when he detected a touch of wariness to her question. Looking at her, he realized she had changed her earlier fairly relaxed stance and folded her arms across her chest. He couldn't really blame her for putting up her guard, not after the warm welcome she had received from them. "Uhm," he rubbed a finger over his eyebrow, and stepped fully into her office, closing the door behind him, "it's about Rusty actually."_

" _Oh," Sharon said, clearly surprised. "What about him?" she asked, her eyes flickering to the boy still seated at an empty desk in the murder room._

" _Well," Andy turned to look at Rusty, too, "I was thinking of taking him home for the night." He turned back to Sharon. "I know you were having trouble finding a family to take him in, and," he shrugged, "since he's a material witness in one of our cases, I think," he rolled his eyes, "there's no rule against my keeping an eye on him for a night or two. You know," he waved a hand through the air in a circular motion, "until we figure out what to do with him long term."_

 _Sharon unfolded her arms, and ran a hand over Rusty's knapsack. The look she gave Andy was an appraising one, but after a moment she said, "If you're sure…"_

 _Andy chuckled nervously. "To be honest, not really." He gave Rusty a concerned look and added, "But I feel for the kid. I know a little about being left to your own devices." He tilted his head to the side, a frown appearing on his brow as he returned his focus on Sharon. "Wouldn't wish it on anyone, least of all a helpless teenager."_

 _Sharon's features softened, and Andy didn't know what exactly to make of the look she gave him, but he didn't have time to analyze it because she said, "He poses a flight risk and is in emergency care, Lieutenant. That means-"_

" _24-hour adult supervision, I know," Andy supplied on a nod. "I can bring him over to the murder room when I get into work tomorrow, or have a uniform keep an eye on him if I get called out in the middle of the night."_

 _Sharon nodded slowly. "He_ is _a material witness," she said, almost absentmindedly, her eyes on Rusty again. "I believe that would justify the extra uniforms, should you need them," she told Andy._

 _Andy gave her a puzzled look, and shifted on the spot. "So," he started tentatively, "I have your permission to take him?"_

 _Increasing his puzzlement, Sharon suddenly smiled. "I believe you might eventually need DCFS permission," she said pointedly, "but yes, I see nothing wrong with a police officer taking care of a witness for a night," she tilted her head to the side, and added, "or two."_

 _Andy grinned, suddenly less nervous about his decision. "Okay then." He straightened. Hooking a thumb in Rusty's direction, he added, "I'll go and let Rusty know."_

" _Here, Lieutenant," Sharon grabbed Rusty's backpack and offered it to Andy across her desk, "you might need this."_

" _Yeah," Andy accepted it, "thanks."_

" _You're welcome," she said._

 _The touch of finality in her response had Andy start for the door. "See you tomorrow then, Captain."_

 _She let out an affirmative hum, and simply said, "Good luck, Lieutenant."_

 _Andy nodded and stepped out of her office. He had barely closed the door and had only just flopped Rusty's backpack on his desk, when an irate looking Provenza rounded the corner and zeroed in on him. "What did she want now?" he asked, pointing a finger at Sharon's office._

 _Andy lifted his palms up in surrender. "Nothing!" He shrugged and lowered his hands. "_ I _actually needed a word with her."_

 _Provenza narrowed his eyes at him. "You? What could you possibly have to discuss with," he paused to scowl, "_ her _?"_

 _Andy folded his arms and scowled, too. "She_ is _my boss, you know," he started sarcastically, "we are bound to have things to discuss, whether you or I like it or not." He was just as unhappy about the situation as his partner was, but he was starting to think that antagonizing the Captain was only going to make matters worse._

 _Provenza rolled his eyes and waved him off. "Yeah, yeah." His eyes landed on Rusty's backpack. "What's that doing there?" He eyed Rusty and lowered his voice. "She decide what to do with him yet?"_

 _Andy folded his arms a little tighter and turned to look at Rusty as well. "As a matter of fact, she has."_

 _Provenza shook his head. "That poor kid, he's headed to a juvenile detention center, isn't he?"_

 _Andy smiled. "Nope," he quipped. "He's coming home with me."_

 _Provenza laughed, but when Andy remained serious, his laughter came to an abrupt end and he shot his partner a wide-eyed look. "He's what?"_

 _Andy unfolded his arms, and leaned against his desk, turning his back to Rusty. "He's got no place to go, Provenza." He drew his shoulders together. "I can keep an eye on him for a couple of days, until we figure out what to do with him."_

 _Provenza stared at him in utter bewilderment. He made several attempts to speak, as if unable to settle on just one thing to say at a time. Finally, he incredulously looked at Sharon in her office. "And the Captain agreed to this?"_

" _Yup," Andy answered and pushed off his desk to take Rusty's bag. "Gave me this and even wished me luck."_

 _Provenza rolled his eyes. "Ye Gods," he muttered and without another word for Andy, he turned around to start making his way out of the murder room. Andy laughed to himself, when he heard him grumble along the way. "Raydor stealing my job, Sykes kissing her butt, Flynn taking in strays. That's it, Liz can have my pension, I'm retiring."_

" _No, you're not!" Andy hollered after him, making Rusty jump in his seat. He shot the boy an apologetic look, and when his partner offered no response, finally made his way to him. "So," he told him, "we've got a temporary solution for your little predicament, kid."_

Andy was brought out of his thoughtful daze by the chime of the doorbell. That would be their dinner. He hoped he would be able to convince the kid to come out of his room long enough to eat it.

. . .

When Rusty had escaped to the bedroom, he was too upset to even bother turning on the light. His backpack was tossed onto the dresser, the crutches were thrown on the floor at the foot of the bed, and he had flung his body sideways across the mattress. He was still lying in the same position almost an hour later, staring up at the ceiling to where the light was peeking through the curtains of the window.

He was really fed up with all of the adults in his life. They either disappeared, were a bunch of liars, or both. 'Or they're creepy assholes,' Rusty added to his mental list when he thought about his mother's boyfriend and some of the guys he had encountered on the streets. He wasn't getting the creepy or abusive vibe from Andy, but the jury was still out on whether or not the guy was an asshole. Until Rusty knew for sure, he couldn't be trusted.

A light knock on the bedroom door disrupted the silence and Rusty's thoughts. He rolled onto his side, his back now facing the door. "I don't want to talk to you!"

The sound of Andy's muffled voice carried through the door. "I ordered dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Rusty lied, and his stomach clenched at the thought.

"I got you a burger." Andy responded, a hopeful inflection still detectable through the barrier.

At the mention of the word 'burger', Rusty's traitorous stomach growled. He really didn't feel like talking to _Andy_ again, but he was actually quite hungry. He continued to deliberate about what he should do for a few more seconds, and in the end, his hunger won out. There was no reason he couldn't enjoy his burger in silence, only speaking if it was absolutely necessary. As soon as he was done eating, he could retreat back to the room.

Rusty had taken longer than he realized to come to a decision, for when he rolled to the end of the bed to pick up his crutches, he noticed Andy's shadow had begun retreating, no doubt interpreting his silence as uninterested. By the time he opened the door, Andy's figure was disappearing down the other hall. He must have heard the door open, however, because his head reappeared when he leaned back around the corner. Rusty thought he even heard him sigh in relief before moving out of sight again.

As Rusty approached the dining area, he could hear Andy opening cabinets and drawers, followed by the clinking of silverware against plates. Entering the room, he found all of the mail had been neatly stacked and pushed off to the side, and a take-out bag now sitting in the middle of the table. The smell wafting from the bag reached his nose, and his stomach rumbled once again, thankfully not loud enough to be heard.

"What would you like to drink?" Andy asked when he opened the fridge. "I have water or," he looked over his shoulder at his dinner companion and frowned, "water." He really needed to go grocery shopping.

Rusty leaned his crutches against the table, and pulled out the chair next to them. "I guess I will have water then," he replied dryly.

Andy pulled out the filtered pitcher, then closed the door. "I think I will, too." He managed to carry over all of the dishes to the table in one trip by stacking the glasses on top of the plates along with the silverware. "I wasn't sure what you liked on your burger," he set a plate and glass in front of Rusty, "so I just got a plain cheeseburger with all of the toppings on the side." Andy filled both of their glasses with water. "I hope that's okay."

Rusty pulled his water glass closer to him, and gripped it tightly in attempt to prevent himself from reaching out for the bag. "That's fine."

Andy began emptying the food bag, pulling out each container to open and inspect its contents. "I also got you some fries," he said as he placed a container full of them in front of Rusty.

He smiled to himself when Rusty immediately reached out with one hand, snagging a couple to eat while simultaneously piling more on his plate with the other. From there, an easy silence had settled over them as the rest of the food was divided, and they began eating. Andy observed that the kid seemed to be more relaxed than before and thought he might take advantage of this kid's seemingly good mood. Not liking how their conversation had ended earlier, he attempted to fix it.

"Rusty," Andy paused, trying to figure out what he could say that might comfort the kid.

"Don't," Rusty warned, not wanting Andy to continue with what would surely be more empty promises. "I really don't care to hear it."

Andy took a moment to survey the young man who wouldn't look him in the eye. His gaze was intent on the fry that he was dragging through the ketchup on his plate. He appeared to be defeated, and Andy realized that there were no words that would ease his mind, so he did what the kid asked, and dropped it.

"Okay," he said quietly, and they went back to eating in silence; except now the tension had returned.

Rusty began squirming in his seat. The awkward silence was much harder to endure than he anticipated, and inane small talk was starting to sound more and more appealing. Reluctantly, he reneged on his original plan to not say anything at all and commented on the first thing that came to his mind.

"Is that one of those precious _veggie_ burgers you love so much?" he asked as he looked over his own burger that he held up in front of his face, and nodded towards the one in Andy's hand.

Andy nodded as he swallowed, almost choking on the bite he had been chewing. He was surprised the kid decided to initiate the conversation. "It is." He turned the burger so that he could get a better look at the contents. "Technically, it's a black bean patty, but," he shrugged, lifting it to his mouth, and before he took another bite, he added, "same difference."

"If you say so." Rusty's nose scrunched up in disgust. "Sounds pretty horrible to me."

Speaking around the food in his mouth, Andy asked, "Have you ever actually tried one?" Although he was certain he already knew the answer, he wanted to keep the light conversation between them going.

"No," Rusty exclaimed, sounding almost appalled by the thought, "and I can assure you I never plan to."

A small chuckle escaped Andy's throat at his visceral response. The kid was serious about his burgers. "You might be surprised and find you actually like it."

Rusty scoffed. "Doubt it." He pointed a finger at Andy. "So don't bother trying to convince me otherwise. I plan to continue eating regular meat burgers like a normal person." As if he was proving a point, he took an excessively large bite and slowly began to chew it.

Even though Rusty was mocking him and laying the sarcasm on pretty heavily, Andy decided to see it as a good sign. At least the kid was talking to him and had accepted a peace offering in the form of a burger. Gaining his trust definitely wasn't an easy task, and Andy considered what might seem like a small feat to anyone else, a rather big accomplishment. He didn't expect that Rusty would be with him long, but the few days that he was would go by a lot easier if they were at least mostly civil to one another.

-TBC-

* * *

A/N: Please leave a review and let us know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

It is impossible to start this note without mentioning how heartbroken the two of us are over the latest events on the show. In light of that, we also have to say that it was absolutely wonderful seeing your positive response to our first chapter. A big thanks to all the guests who reviewed, too, but to whom we couldn't reach out with a more personal thank you.

 _Working on this chapter was as much fun as the previous one, if not more. I just cannot stop marvelling at the easiness with which we continue to play off each other's writing. Some details written by my partner here are my absolute favorites, and I look forward to seeing you enjoy them as much as I did._

 _~IReadAndWriteSometimes_

 _Before we get to the chapter, I wanted to take a moment to thank a guest review who signs as RachelJ. You went through and read 2 of my older stories and left me several reviews yesterday. Since I can't thank you personally, I thought I would thank you here on the off-chance you are reading this story, too. I cannot tell you how amazing that was and how much it lifted my mood to receive all of the alerts regarding your reviews. You are incredible, thank you._

 _Also, a special shout out to my writing partner. There were several moments in this chapter that she depicted so brilliantly, I can't help but fangirl over them. I continually find myself in awe of her wonderful work. Anyhoo, enough from me now._

 _~escapewithstories_

Our second chapter covers some of the events in epi 1x02, but also includes some scenes of our own.

* * *

THE SAME, YET DIFFERENT - CHAPTER TWO

Over breakfast, Andy focused on the last of the paperwork he needed to fill out for DCFS. The endless number of questions in it alone was headache inducing, but it was the boy sitting opposite of him at the dining table that was actually causing it. Rusty hadn't been at all happy to be woken up at what he called an 'ungodly hour' just so that his caseworker, Cynthia, could 'dump him' on yet another foster parent.

Although technically, Andy wasn't a foster parent. Yet.

He knew even without Cynthia's update the day before just how overwhelmed with children in need the foster system was, but he was still surprised when she admitted that finding a suitable home for Rusty was proving difficult. The search for his mother wasn't yielding any results just yet either. He had talked to his Captain the previous morning to find out that not only had she promised to look for Rusty's mother, but she had started the search as soon as they closed their case. Andy wanted to help, but by then it had already become a waiting game; one that Rusty wasn't very good at. The lack of news about his mother simply added to his foul mood. Rusty's situation also wasn't helped when at the mere mention of being put up with another family, he threatened to run away again. What Cynthia pointed out as well was that Rusty's witness status, the guise under which Andy took Rusty in in the first place, wasn't a good temporary solution from a legal standpoint either. That was how he found himself filling out all this paperwork. He was making an official request to be appointed Rusty's foster parent.

It wasn't an idea that crossed Andy's mind that night he took Rusty home, but when Cynthia mentioned that as a possible solution for the time being, he had agreed without hesitation. He figured he had the space and the means. Perhaps he was a little short on time to take on a kid fulltime, and his own children would have a word or two to say about it, too, but he decided it was still probably better than what Cynthia could offer Rusty as an alternative. It also helped that given Rusty's emergency care status, Andy wouldn't have to deal with the entire approval procedure the same way most foster parents had to.

If only Rusty would see it that way.

Andy had just scribbled down his signature on the last sheet of paper in front of him when his doorbell rang. He quickly collected the papers that were strewn across the table into a neat pile, and stood to answer the door. That prompted Rusty to say his first words since sitting down for breakfast.

"I do not want to live with you," he bit out, shoving his bowl of cereal to the middle of the table. By the time Andy looked at him, he added, "I want to live with my-"

"Mom," Andy supplied with no small amount of exasperation. "I know," he added more gently, and started making his way to the door. He smirked to himself when he heard the chair scrape across the floor as Rusty leapt to his feet to follow. He was glad to see that he was following doctor's orders from the other day and was no longer leaning on his crutches. "But until you can, I'm afraid you're stuck," Andy had reached the door and turned around to glance at Rusty as he prepared to open it, "with me." Not waiting for Rusty's by then signature eye roll, he flung his front door open, and plastered a polite smile on his face. "Hello, Cynthia, come on in." He invited her inside with a wave of his hand.

Cynthia smiled, clutching a clipboard to her chest, and walked inside. "Good morning, Lieutenant," her gaze landed on Rusty and her smile widened, "Rusty."

To Andy's surprise, Rusty responded with, "Morning." He decided to ignore that the word left him through gritted teeth, and that he was glaring at Cynthia as it he did.

Cynthia must have been used to Rusty's sunny disposition by now, because she all but smirked before turning to Andy again. "So how about we get started then?"

"Sure," Andy was suddenly feeling a little nervous, and a stammering "Uuh," left him before he cleared his throat and said, "I guess we best start with Rusty's room?"

Cynthia smiled reassuringly. "Yes," she gracefully waved a hand at Andy, "lead the way, Lieutenant."

By the time Cynthia was inspecting the last part of Andy's apartment, the balcony, Andy's headache had reached new levels. Rusty had bad-mouthed just about everything Cynthia had so much as glanced at. When Andy explained his two spare bedrooms, Rusty had immediately argued that 'a guy whose own kids didn't seem to like him' can't possibly be foster parent material. He had even gone on to complain about the sparsely decorated state the rooms were in, claiming even hospital rooms had a warmer feel to them. When Andy honestly offered to work on giving Rusty's room a cozier touch, instead of reassuring Rusty, the kid had thrown a tantrum about Andy only wanting to buy his co-operation so he would testify in their 'stupid murder trial'.

Andy let that just roll off him. He kept repeating his inner mantra, 'There's a reason he doesn't trust people.' However, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when, in the kitchen, Rusty accused Andy of 'shoving nothing but unhealthy burgers and fries down his throat'. Thankfully, Cynthia let out a hearty laugh and shrugged it off by sarcastically saying, "Yes, feeding you your favorite food. Torture."

At that point, Andy was just about ready to ask her for tips on handling Rusty, because nothing he had said until then made her bat even an eyelash. He found that rather impressive.

Cynthia, with Rusty hot on her heels, was just about to step back inside the living room when Andy's phone went off. He groaned even before reading Provenza's name on it. He put a finger up and mumbled an apologetic, "I have to get this, could be work." Cynthia merely nodded in understanding, and he proceeded to answer his call. "Please, tell me we didn't catch a case."

"Sorry," Provenza sounded genuine enough, "but unfortunately we did. I don't have any details yet, but it's definitely a dead body." He lowered his voice, and asked, "How's it going?"

"I'll be there as soon as I can." Andy watched Cynthia as she scribbled something down on her board, Rusty surreptitiously looking over her shoulder. He lowered his voice a little. "About to get a verdict here."

"I can't believe I'm saying this," judging by his partner's grumbled words, Andy assumed he had graced him with an eye roll, too, "but you'll do just fine. The poor kid's screwed with your sorry self, but he'll still be better off with you than with God knows who else."

Andy rolled his own eyes. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence." Rusty was starting to argue with Cynthia, so he quickly added, "Just text me the address, see you in a few." Not waiting for Provenza's response, he turned his attention to Cynthia and Rusty and dropped the call.

"No, you're just locking me up with him," Rusty pointed a hand at Andy, "so that you don't have to bother with looking for my mom!" He raised his voice another notch and threw his head back in annoyance as he added, "And don't even get me started on that witness crap!"

"Rusty," Andy said a bit sharply, causing Rusty to whirl around to glare at him. "Nobody's locking anyone up here, alright?" He lifted his hand in a placating manner. "Trust me, this is not how I lock guys up." Rusty opened his mouth to protest, but Andy raised his voice a little to stop him before he could. " _And_ if you want us to find your mother, I'd advise you to just stay put for now." He inclined his head and added matter-of-factly, "Unless you'd rather I waste my time looking for you instead of your mom if you make good on your threats?"

Momentarily, Rusty was rendered speechless and he just stared blankly at Andy as he processed his words. Then he suddenly turned to Cynthia again. Waving his hand at Andy in agitation, he exclaimed, "See, he's _blackmailing_ me now!"

Cynthia raised an eyebrow and looked at him blandly. "As opposed to what you've been doing?" she asked with a healthy dose of sarcasm and went on without waiting for Rusty's answer. "You've got yourself a pretty good deal here, Rusty." She glanced toward Andy at that. "If I were you, I'd try not to blow it this time."

Andy perked up at that. "So," he started, ignoring Rusty's dumbstruck look, "we're good here?"

Cynthia took a breath and scanned her checklist, nodding. "I see no issues with this place," she looked at him again, "Rusty's got more than he needs here really," she shot Rusty a warning look, correctly assuming that he would want to argue that point as well, and it was enough to derail his plans, "so, yes, we're good here. Now, normally," she gave Andy an ever so wary look, "alcohol abuse," Andy squared his shoulders, and refrained from groaning when he saw Rusty's eyes grow wide, "is not something we appreciate seeing in one's application to foster, but if your LAPD record doesn't alleviate any concerns regarding that," her expression softened, and she leafed through the stack of papers on her little board, Andy's own paperwork in it, until she fished out a single sheet, "this certainly does."

Andy nodded. Rusty's 24/7 supervision hadn't exactly allowed him a moment to catch his last meeting or meet up with his sponsor in person, but with the change he was about to make he decided to at least give his sponsor a call, just to talk it out. Knowing his alcoholism would be brought up, his sponsor offered to type up a few words in Andy's favor, and Andy wasn't inclined to say no to that. "My sponsor said I can give you his number," he shrugged, "in case you had any more questions or-"

Cynthia interrupted. "I know," she waved the letter around, "I've got it right here."

"Oh, okay, good," Andy said awkwardly. He hadn't read the letter himself, he just printed it out and added it to the rest of the paperwork so he didn't know its contents.

"You're a drunk?" Rusty finally found his voice and it was laced with both incredulity and accusation.

Andy's phone decided to chime at precisely that moment. He knew it was Provenza, but he checked to make sure anyway, as he somewhat distractedly corrected Rusty. "A recovering alcoholic, yes."

That shut Rusty up for another moment, long enough to allow Cynthia to switch topics. "About that," she said, nodding her head to Andy's phone. "Rusty is in emergency care, he needs constant supervision," she said somewhat pointedly.

Andy looked up, pocketing his phone. He ignored Rusty's indignant, "I do not need to be babysat!" and told Cynthia, "Yes, I understand. My Captain and I agreed that," he eyed Rusty, "since he's also a material witness in one of our cases, we can afford a uniform keeping an eye on him when I'm called out to crime scenes. As a matter of fact, I'm going to drive him to one right now, then have a uniform drop him off at the murder room." He cracked a smile. "Plenty of supervision for him there."

Cynthia looked at Rusty. "I can take him," she offered on a shrug. "It's on my way, and," her expression turned a little mischievous, "it'll give me and Rusty a few more moments to chat."

Rusty scowled at her.

As convenient an offer as it was, Andy tried to decline. "Well," he checked his watch, "I really don't want to put you out, it's no trouble for me to-"

Cynthia interrupted again, this time with a dismissive wave of her hand. "It's no trouble for _me_ , Lieutenant."

Andy nodded, relenting. "In that case," he eyed Rusty, smiling, "pack what you need, and let's get going." He gave Cynthia a grateful look, when, not counting the displeased look Rusty shot him, the kid went to do as told. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it," she waved it off. "We are very grateful for you," her eyes followed Rusty's movement, "for taking him in on such short notice. He can use all the help he can get."

"Yeah," Andy said a little regretfully as the thought of just what Rusty had already gone through in his young life crossed his mind.

Cynthia didn't let his thought linger, for she said, "So have you decided on a school for Rusty?"

. . .

After Cynthia dropped Rusty off at the murder room, he took a seat at the same desk he had occupied the last time he had been in it, and spent the last ten minutes glaring at the uniformed officer that was assigned to keep an eye on him. Rusty was itching to just up and leave, but it was impossible with the officer not leaving his side.

Cynthia talking his ear off on the way to the PAB didn't help his sour mood either. She had always tried persuading him to give this or that foster family a chance, he assumed it was part of her job description, and he had heard her little speeches enough times by now to just ignore them, but this time she was slightly more insistent than she usually was. Rusty decided it was because having a cop babysit him meant killing two birds with one stone; DCFS finally managed to drop him into somebody else's lap for a while, and the city knew exactly where their precious little witness was at all times.

Rusty grunted in frustration and buried his face into the backpack he had placed on top of the desk in front of him. All he wanted was to reunite with his mother. He would even take the stand for the LAPD's murder trial, as long as he could finally have a life with his mom again.

He was startled out of his reverie when a soft voice said, "Good morning, Rusty."

He instantly lifted his head, looking to his right where the voice had come from. Next to Andy's desk, he found his boss, that Raydor Captain, standing and politely smiling at him. He frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be at a crime scene with your team?" he asked derisively.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, an almost mischievous expression just fleetingly crossing her features as she swept her gaze over the empty desks of her subordinates. "I am," she said, a touch of wonder in her voice, "but," she looked at him again and shrugged, "I have decided to give something else a try."

Rusty stared blandly at her for a second. "Whatever," he mumbled dismissively and plopped his head back down on his knapsack, only this time he folded his arms on top of it first.

Sharon didn't respond. Instead she addressed the officer who had been standing by Rusty's side. "Lieutenant Flynn filled me in, I can take it from here."

"Yes, Ma'am," the officer said and walked away.

Not lifting his head, but just turning it her way slightly, Rusty looked at her. "I thought you said you had to," he lifted his head finally and put up air quotation marks, "comply fully with the law." He sarcastically drawled the last word.

She pursed her lips and gave him a look over the top of her glasses. "I do," she said simply.

Rusty had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and realizing he didn't particularly care to understand, he simply rolled his eyes at her, and rested his chin against his folded arms again. The next thing he heard was the sound of footsteps and a door opening. When he didn't hear it close, he chanced a glance in its direction, and realized she had walked into her office, but had left her door open. Through the open blinds he could see she was already focusing on the laptop on her desk. He straightened in his chair then, and looked around. There were people going about their day, but there was no sign of the officer who had met them when Cynthia dropped him off, nor was anybody else paying particular attention to him. Without another second's thought, he got to his feet, grabbed his bag, and started for the exit. He smiled in self-satisfaction when he noted the Captain's focus was still on her computer screen.

He had made it halfway past her office, when he heard, "And where do you think you're going, mister?"

Rusty stopped in his tracks. He felt an odd chill run down his spine, and he hated admitting that it was the low, calm voice she spoke in that caused it. For only a split second, Rusty wanted to lie, say he was going to the bathroom, but when he looked her way through the glass wall that separated them and found her watching him in what he could only label as amusement, his ire suddenly bubbled to the surface. He took the few steps toward her open door and raised his voice. "I am getting out of here!" He put his backpack on his shoulders, and held it close to his back as he tugged on its straps. "Like it's not enough that nobody's looking for my mom, now you've put me up with a cop who is a drunk?" he asked incredulously. "I'd much rather take my chances on the streets, thank you very much." Without sparing her another glance, he turned and started walking away again.

He had reached her other office door, when he heard her voice from behind him. She had apparently stood from her desk and gone after him. "May I offer you one piece of advice?" she asked him, and it was the rather genuine questioning note in her voice that made Rusty come to a halt and turn around.

He found her standing at the corner outside of her office. He thought she wasn't really trying to chase him down the hall, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. As if reading his mind, she added, "By the way, your earlier shadow is standing guard," she inclined her head, indicating behind Rusty, "there."

He looked at where she had pointed and indeed found the officer standing at the end of the hallway that led out of the murder room. He could have sworn he wasn't there a minute ago. He turned to her again. "Fine." He crossed his arms. "What advice could you possibly have for me?"

Despite his confrontational tone, her expression softened as she replied. "If I were you, I would try giving people a chance to actually disappoint me before completely writing them off."

Rusty frowned. "Well, you're _not_ me, are you?" he bit back.

She nodded and with a touch of finality said, "No, I am not." She made a circular motion with her hand before turning to the side and pointing her index finger at the desk he was sitting behind a few minutes ago. "Now, if you would please return to your desk."

Rusty stayed put. "Or what?" he asked defiantly.

"Or," she practically sing-songed, "I will call back that nice officer and have him," she cracked a small smile, " _babysit_ you."

Rusty's glare darkened, but ultimately he decided to heed her request, and without another word, he started walking back to his desk.

When he dumped his backpack on the desk again and sat down, he heard her say, "Thank you." By the time he looked her way, she was already inside her office again, her door still wide open.

…

"That's all we have for now, Captain," Provenza didn't even bother to turn to look in her direction where she was standing only a few steps away. "Morales should be on his way soon with the autopsy results, and Julio is getting the wife calmed down, then settled into an interview room." He continued to stare at the sparsely filled file lying open on his desk.

Sharon gave the murder board where Amy was still drawing the layout of the crime scene one last look before turning to stare at the back of Provenza's head. "I see." She stood there for a moment longer, seeming to decide what to do next, before starting to head towards her office. "Please inform me when Dr. Morales gets here."

The team had been working the last couple of hours on gathering what information they could on their victim and his next of kin. Along with the full autopsy report, they were still waiting on search warrants for his personal and business financials to go through, and until then, there wasn't much for them to do.

When Andy had arrived in the murder room earlier, he found Rusty once again sitting at a usually empty desk near his own. Since then, the kid had barely spared him a glance, and actually seemed to be going out of his way to avoid looking at him. Andy looked between his partner and his newly appointed foster son, both slumped over a desk, sulking. He rolled his eyes; it really was a toss up on who was behaving the most like a five year old.

"Buzz," Andy called after the tech before he could disappear into the electronics room. "Do you mind getting Rusty set up in the breakroom with a laptop?" He started flipping through the pages of his notebook. "His case worker suggested he start studying for a placement test he will undoubtedly have to take once we decide on a school, and," he ripped out a page when he came upon the right one, "she suggested this website that has some study material." He held the paper out to the younger man.

"Okay." Buzz gingerly took the piece of paper and briefly scanned it. "Why am I doing this?"

"Well, because," Andy rubbed the tip of his chin with his fingertips, "I need you to supervise him while he takes it."

"You mean like sit and watch him?" An incredulous expression, which matched his equally incredulous tone, crossed his features.

"Yes, Buzz," Andy gave the civilian tech a pointed look, "I do think that's what supervise means."

"I've already told you," Rusty turned in his chair to interrupt, finally sparing Andy a glance, "I don't need a babysitter."

Andy tapped his notebook against his palm. "Cynthia doesn't agree," he casually responded.

"She also thinks it's okay for me to live with a drunk," Rusty shook his head to move his hair out of his face, and stared hard back at Andy, "so what does she know?"

Andy's eyes widened fractionally before his face settled into a stony expression. He didn't realize the kid was still hung up on the news about him being in recovery, but it definitely explained the colder-than-usual shoulder he had been receiving. Deciding to table the discussion for now, he turned back to Buzz, but was unable to keep the irritation out of his tone. "Can you please just keep an eye on him while he studies for that test?" Hoping to speed things along, he added, "I will owe you one."

"Fine," Buzz grumbled, clearly still not pleased with the task. "But you owe me _big._ "

"Yea," Andy sighed and dropped down into the chair at his desk, "right."

Both Rusty and Buzz shot Andy one more displeased look as they headed towards the breakroom to do as they were asked without any further complaints. When they were no longer in sight, Andy leaned forward over his desk and dropped his head into his hands. He took a deep breath in expelled it slowly, partially in relief that Rusty was at least occupied for the next couple of hours, and partially out of exhaustion because he was dreading the arguments he knew were still to come. His moment of respite was quickly interrupted by a chipper voice from across the room.

"You sending Rusty to school, Lieutenant?" Sykes asked from the whiteboard as she capped the marker.

"Yea," Andy chuckled as he watched Provenza glare at the oblivious young detective while she took a seat at her desk. "His case worker said he can't just sit around here," he waved a hand about, indicating the murder room, "and at my condo all day while we wait and see if there's news about his mom." He picked up a pen from his desk and clicked it a few times. "He'll have take some test to see what grade level he's at, but first I have to find a school to enroll him in. Tao," he swiveled his chair to face the man who was sitting a few desks over from him, "you have any suggestions?"

Mike's brows rose in surprise. "Me?" He was busy looking over the victim's website, and had only partially been paying attention to his teammates' conversation.

"Well, yea." Andy shrugged. "Kevin is a senior this year, right?"

"Yes." Mike drew out the word, still trying to determine where Andy was going with his line of thought.

"So," Andy looked at him pointedly, "you're more familiar with this stuff than the rest of us." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk. "I figured you might have some suggestions." He looked at the other man expectantly.

"Oh, okay," Mike said, pleased someone was looking to him for advice. "Hmm." He took off his glasses and began twirling them by an earpiece between two of his fingers. "You live in Silver Lake, right?" When Andy nodded in affirmation, he continued. "You actually have a few good options, so it depends on whether or not you're interested in public, magnet, charter, or private."

Andy frowned. "I only understood," he wiggled the pen he was holding in Mike's direction, "half of what you said."

"Ye Gods, here we go," Provenza mumbled from where he was still slumped over his desk, and began rubbing his temples with his fingertips.

"Public, magnet, and charter are all state funded, but they have a few differences." Mike sat back, bracing his elbows on the armrest of his chair, and folded his empty hand over the back of the one holding his glasses. "Magnet schools generally have a rigorous application process and high entrance standards, so that's probably not a viable option right now." He shrugged, almost apologetically. "Charter scho-"

"Tao!" Provenza's head shot up and he smacked his hand against the desk. "Please, for the the love of my own sanity, get to the point and just give him your _very condensed_ suggestion."

"Okay, okay." Mike held his hands up in a defensive manner, causing his glasses to flip back against his wrist. "As I was saying," he shot a quick look of displeasure in Provenza's direction, "Rusty most likely wouldn't get into a magnet school. The public schools in your area are good, but," he reached into the interior pocket of his suit jacket, pulling out a cloth, and began cleaning his lenses, "generally overcrowded, so Rusty might get a little lost in the educational system, especially if he has a year or two to catch up on." Mike held his glasses out at eye-level to inspect them. He nodded to himself, seeming to be satisfied with the results. "Private or charter would be best, but he would need to apply to a private school, and there aren't many charter schools in the area that go beyond middle school." He slid his glasses back on his face and smiled pleasantly over at Andy.

"Uh, thanks, Mike." Andy slumped back into his chair, not believing that was the condensed version. "That was really helpful." He tried smiling back, but instead only managed to look bewildered.

. . .

Andy lightly rapped his knuckles against the door, and at the muffled 'come in', he opened it just enough to slip in before closing it once again. "Hey, Captain."

Sharon looked up from the open file on her desk and offered him a small smile. "How can I help you, Lieutenant?"

He was still standing at the door, his hand braced on the handle, indicating he didn't intend to stay long. "I was just wondering if you've heard anything regarding Rusty's mom?"

"Andy," Sharon said on a sigh and lightly shook her head. There was such an expectant look on his face, she hated to disappoint him. "I promised I would inform you the moment I heard anything."

Andy's shoulders sunk. "I know." He finally released his grip on the door handle and stepped further into her office. "I was just kind of hoping for something to tell the kid, maybe help cheer him up."

Sharon leaned back slightly, looking through the blinds to where Rusty was once again flopped over one of the spare desks. "He does seem to be a bit moodier than usual."

"Yea, and that's saying something," Andy mumbled to himself, but loud enough for her to hear.

Sharon allowed a small smile to form at his small joke, before turning serious again. "Everything okay?

"No…I mean, yes…I mean" Andy let out a deep sigh and rolled his eyes at how ridiculous he was being, "I don't know." He began rubbing the back of his neck where the tension had been building all day while mentally debating whether he should elaborate or not. The Captain stared back at him with a look of genuine concern, and before he knew it, he found himself venting all of his frustrations from the day. "Cynthia inadvertently opened a can of worms this morning during her home visit," he crossed his arms over his chest, "and I haven't had a chance to talk to Rusty about it because we caught a case." He solemnly looked in Rusty's direction, and with a tone to match, added, "Although, I'm not sure he's even willing to talk to me considering he will hardly look at me right now." He was quiet for a moment longer as he continued to look through the window, but then he suddenly started pacing short circles in front of her desk, and continued with his ramblings. "I also have to get him enrolled into school here pretty quick. Thankfully," the word was said with a mixture of relief and gratitude, "Buzz helped out by supervising the kid while he studied for a placement test he will eventually have to take," he tapped a finger against his chin in time with each of his steps, "but now I apparently owe him _big_ , and I don't even want to think about what that means. And speaking of things that I don't know what they mean," he stopped his pacing and braced his hands on his hips, "Mike suggested something about private magnets or public charters, I don't know," he frustratedly tossed his hands up, before resting them on his hips again, "so now I gotta go figure out what the hell that means so that Rusty doesn't get lost in the education system," he huffed a short, mirthless laugh, "because god knows getting lost in one system is bad enough, I don't want to be responsible for it happening again." He leaned over, bracing his hands on the back of the chair in front of her desk, and earnestly gazed at her. "I honestly don't know what I was thinking when I decided to take him home." There was no disguising the doubt that had entered his tone, and he began speaking more rapidly. "I'm beginning to think that maybe I'm not the best person for the job, but there's nowhere else for him to go, so it doesn't really matter what I think because-" he paused, the reality of what he agreed to fully dawning on him. He had been acting on impulse since he took Rusty in, and now the weight of it was hitting him all at once. It was too late to turn back now, and he honestly didn't think he wanted to, but that still didn't make the situation easier. Standing up straight, he took a deep breath and with more confidence than he felt, he finished his thought. "Because Rusty needs me whether he agrees or not."

He never meant to admit that much to her, but the thought had been there since he brought the kid home, waiting to burst out. His Captain seemed to be staring at him in her usual assessing manner, and he was sure she was now having the same doubts about his ability to care for Rusty. He wanted to tell her to forget he said anything, but then he caught the flicker of sympathy in her eyes, and he knew she understood him and was in no way judging him. Now he was torn between being thankful she understood his worries, or mad that he felt relieved to have gained Raydor's sympathies.

Sharon quietly cleared her throat, chasing away the last of her surprise at him being so forthcoming. She knew there wasn't much she could do for him in this situation, mainly because he wouldn't want to hear it from her, so she decided to focus on the one issue she could provide some input. "Both of my kids went to St. Joseph's. It's a private school, and there would be no concern that Rusty would get lost in the system." She rested her elbows on her desk and rolled the pen she was holding between her fingers. "You should give it some consideration."

Andy sighed in relief, thankful that she was setting aside the majority of his tirade, and focusing on the one thing he really needed help with at the moment. He rounded the chair he was leaning against, and finally took a seat. "Isn't there some application process we will have to go through?" He leaned forward and braced his forearm on the edge of her desk. "I think that might take too long," he said with disappointment, "and that's if we haven't missed the deadline I'm sure they have."

"I'd be willing to put in a good word for Rusty." Sharon shrugged a single shoulder and smirked knowingly. "I can be quite persuasive."

Andy quickly shook his head. "I can't ask you to do that."

Sharon waved off her concern with a flick of her wrist. "You didn't ask, I offered. Besides," her tone changed, appearing more authoritative, "now that I am in charge of the case, I think it's also my job to make sure our young witness is taken care of."

Andy collapsed back into the chair, no longer able to come up with any further objections. "If you don't mind, that would actually be of great help."

"I don't mind," Sharon assured him with a nod of finality. She gazed at him for a moment longer as he seemed to be processing everything that transpired in the last few seconds. She hated to add more to his plate, but figured it was something worth mentioning. "Have you considered therapy for Rusty?" A look of sadness flirted across her features. "He's been through an awful lot recently, I'm sure it would be beneficial for him."

Andy gave a noncommittal grunt. "I'm sure it would, but he is vehemently against anything I suggest right now." He pointedly looked over at her. "I don't want to poke the bear anymore than I already have."

Sharon laughed softly. "I understand."

"I promise to keep it in mind though." Andy rose from the chair, figuring he had taken up more than enough of her time. "Thank you for listening, Captain," he smiled at her sheepishly, the realization that he just confided in her of all people setting in, "and thank you for the school recommendation."

"I'm happy to help, Lieutenant." She leaned back in her chair and rested her hands in her lap.

"I will look up St. Joseph's tonight and see if they have any forms online that I can print off." He gave her a curt nod and headed towards the door.

"Andy," she said suddenly before he could open the door or she could talk herself out of it. Since he had shared his concerns with her, albeit probably unintentionally, she figured the least she could do was help assuage some of them. "Don't be so hard on yourself, or let his typical teenage ire get to you." She offered him another warm smile. "You are doing really well with Rusty, and he knows that, whether or not he's willing to admit it yet."

Not trusting himself to speak, Andy just nodded and smiled in appreciation. He couldn't recall having such an amicable conversation with her, and it was beginning to weird him out. It would be something that needed to be mulled over later when he could find the time to think about something else besides the case and Rusty.

. . .

They had closed the case and for the past hour and a half Andy had been working on his portion of the report, but it had been slow going because he was distracted by thoughts of his situation with Rusty. Even though the kid was sitting at the desk in front of him, he made sure to turn his chair around and propped his feet up on another empty chair, just so he didn't have to look in Andy's direction. They had hardly talked since Cynthia's visit. He thought by giving Rusty his space and the chance to cool off the night before, things would be better between them today. That was not proving to be the case, and he was realizing they needed to have a discussion real soon.

Andy sighed as he hit print on the report. He stood and headed for the printer, finally noticing his partner was missing from the room. "Where's Provenza?" Andy asked, stopping next to Buzz's desk where he was filing away the interview tapes.

Buzz glanced over the side of the tape he held in front of his face, checking that it was labeled properly. "I think he's hiding out in the break room."

Andy's brows rose in surprise. "Why would he be hiding out?"

Buzz tried suppressing a smirk, but failed completely. "I think his pride took a hit from the Captain putting him in his place earlier." There was a hint of glee in his tone, no doubt delighted by Provenza being successfully chastised.

"At least I'm not the only one she practices her skills on," Rusty mumbled from where he was sitting a few feet away.

Andy snorted as he turned to face Rusty. "Trust me kid, you are far from the only one." He leaned his hip against the edge of Buzz's desk and crossed his arms over his chest. "I think you'd be hard pressed to find an officer in this building who hasn't been on the receiving end, or at least witnessed," he added with a tilt of his head, "a verbal lashing from Raydor."

Rusty looked as though he was going to respond, but seemed to remember he wasn't talking to Andy. A look of disdain crossed his features before he turned his chair around and hunched over the notepad he placed on top of the desk.

Andy turned to look at Buzz and found him smiling sympathetically. He shrugged in response, acting as though Rusty's behavior wasn't getting to him. After gathering his pages off the printer and dropping them off at his desk, he headed in the direction of the break room.

Before Andy opened the door, he looked through the window of the room and found his partner sitting at one of the tables. He was slightly turned so that his back rested partially against the chair and partially against the wall next to him. His daily crossword was held out in front of his face and he was filling in one of his answers.

Andy entered the break room, but didn't move further than a few steps just inside the door, leaning back against it once it closed again. "Are you seriously in here sulking?"

"I'm not sulking," Provenza responded smoothly without sparing the other man a glance.

"Then why are you hiding out here in the break room," Andy jerked his head in the direction of the murder room, "instead of working on your puzzle at your desk like you usually do?"

Provenza took in a deep breath and then let it out in a huff. "I just got tired of looking up and seeing _her_ in that office." His deceptively calm demeanor vanished when he slapped the folded paper on the table next to him. "She doesn't belong there!"

Andy rolled his eyes. "Sounds like sulking to me." Figuring that this conversation wasn't going to be short or easy, he moved across the room and took a seat opposite of his partner. "I know you got the short end of the stick on this deal-"

"Ye Gods, I am so sick of hearing that damn word!" Provenza leaned forward and shook his finger at Andy. "The only reason Raydor is in that position is because she's willing to tow the line and go along with this cockamamie plan to save the city money."

Andy wanted to point out there was probably several other factors that got her the job considering the events that lead up to Chief Johnson leaving, but knew that wouldn't get him anywhere. "So what's the big d-" when his partner cocked his head and gave him a warning side glare, he quickly changed his word choice, "issue? You've been shoveling this bureaucratic bullshit your entire career, what's so different now?"

"I'm tired of it, that's what!" Provenza threw his arms out in frustration. "Tomorrow, our suspect will go before the judge and explain how she committed _premeditated murder_ ," he enunciated each syllable slowly, "but we've made a deal for manslaughter instead."

"Deep down you know as well as I do that Hobbs and Raydor are right." Andy leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. "Our dirtbag victim was as sleazy as they come, and there was a good chance the jury would let her off for it."

"I still don't like it," Provenza responded, not actually denying that his partner was right, but quickly moved on before Andy could point that out. "And you know what else I don't like?" He didn't wait for the customary 'what' before continuing. "You getting all chummy with Raydor."

"I am not getting chummy with Raydor!" Andy's voice rose an octave, almost coming out as a screech. "Why would you say something like that?"

"You've had a couple of closed door meetings with her recently," Provenza leaned back against the wall, and picked up his puzzle again, casually adding, "what else am I supposed to think?"

"Oh, I don't know," Andy brought a finger to his chin, pretending to give it some thought before narrowing his eyes on his partner, "that we were discussing the material witness that I happen to have living with me right now and," the sarcasm in his tone was growing with each word, "how the search for his mom is going."

"Mm-hmm," Provenza mockingly shook his head from side to side. "That's a convenient excuse if you ask me."

"She's been really helpful with matters involving the kid, that's it." He made a cutting motion through the air with his hand. "Stop trying to make something out of nothing just because you don't wanna play nice."

Seeming to forget his ire, in a much softer tone Provenza asked, "And how is everything going with Rusty?" Andy had filled him in on the rest of the details of Cynthia's visit, and he knew that the kid was giving him a hard time as a result.

"Well," Andy shrugged, "between him and you, I've had my fill of mood swings for the rest of the year." He pointedly ignored the other man's responding scowl. "I decided you were the more optimistic choice to try and talk some sense into." Andy slumped back into the chair. "How do you think it's going?"

"You're an idiot." Provenza rolled his eyes. "You're still gonna have to talk to him."

"I know." Andy scrubbed a hand over his face. "I plan on doing that tonight, even if he tries locking himself in his room again like last night."

"This is what you get for playing good samaritan," Provenza said, and not for the first time.

Andy didn't bother responding. He decided to save what little fight he had left in him; he was going to need it for the discussion that was still to come. Hoping the extra time would help him gather some much needed patience, he had been putting it off, but waiting much longer would only prove to be worse. His frustrations with the situation were persistent as ever, as well as Rusty's infuriating sulking.

They spent the drive home after Major Crimes finally closed their case in tense silence. In an attempt to clamp down on his ever growing irritation with the boy's attitude, Andy had been clutching his steering wheel a little more tightly than usual. By the time he pulled into his usual parking space and loosened his grip, he needed to flex his fingers a few times in order to regain proper feeling in them. His irritation wasn't helped when Rusty practically jumped out of the car the moment it came to a stop, and certainly not when he slammed the passenger door shut with as much force as he could summon.

Andy sighed, retrieved his keys and went after him. Rusty couldn't get into the apartment without him and he would have to wait outside the door, but at this point he wasn't so sure the kid wouldn't try to make a break for it, so he caught up with him as quickly as possible.

On their way up to the apartment, their strained silence continued and was compounded by a few pointedly dirty looks shot Andy's way. It took everything in him to contain his eye roll at the boy's petulant behavior, but when upon entering the condo Rusty wordlessly padded down the hallway to his room, he did mutter, "Provenza's wrong. In comparison to this kid, I _am_ peachy to be around!"

For a moment, Andy deliberated whether to drag Rusty out of his room to talk with him right away or not, but finally decided that if he had to go another round with him, he might as well do it after he put away his badge and gun and made himself a cup of coffee. It was a little late for coffee, but he felt he could use some if he was to survive yet another evening in Rusty's lovely company. Especially since unlike the last evening when they hadn't exchanged a single word, he expected this one to include a decent amount of yelling, on both their parts.

In the bedroom, he also got rid of his suit jacket and removed his tie. The depressing, yet amusing, notion of not wanting to give Rusty an opportunity to strangle him with it crossed Andy's mind when he tossed the tie on top of his bed. When he made his way to the kitchen, he was not surprised that Rusty was still holed up in his room.

Once he got his coffee ready, Andy walked down the hall, took a patience summoning sip of it and lifted his free hand to tap his knuckles against Rusty's door. "Rusty," he said when no answer came. The light was on, so he knew his foster son was still up, "may I, _please_ , come in?" He sighed and lowered his hand to rest his forehead against the door. "We need to talk."

Finally, Rusty responded. "It's your place, it's not like I can stop you."

"You didn't lock the door?" Andy asked, surprise evident as he lifted his head.

"No." Rusty's answer was drawled exaggeratedly.

Andy decided that was as close to permission he would get, so he slowly cracked the door open, and poked his head into the room. Rusty was lying on the far side of his bed, propped against the headboard, typing away on the laptop he was allowed to borrow the day before. Pushing the door fully open, Andy cradled his coffee mug between both hands and leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. "You still working on those placement tests?" That wasn't why he had knocked on Rusty's door, but taking into account his foul mood, this was the last thing he expected him to be doing, and it caught Andy by surprise.

"No," Rusty said at length, not tearing his gaze away from the screen, "I've moved on to a more important matter."

Confused, Andy's brow drew together. "Like what?"

Rusty turned his head to look at him, and Andy mentally winced when he noted his annoyed expression. "Oh, I don't know," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "how about the search for my mother?" He pressed a key with a little more force than necessary, and returned his focus to the laptop. "Somebody's gotta do it since everybody else obviously," he paused purposefully and flashed an angry look at Andy, "can't be bothered with it."

Andy sighed and rubbed his fingertips against his temple. "Rusty," he said slowly, doing his best to keep the exasperation out of his voice, "we _are_ looking for your mother."

"Yeah, right," Rusty muttered, stubbornly continuing to look at the laptop.

"Yeah, right!" Andy repeated heatedly, raising his voice just fractionally, but enough to prompt Rusty to finally spare him another glance. Once he caught his eye, he continued. "We are tracking not just your mother, but her boyfriend as well. We have put out every possible alert we could think of." Andy pushed off the doorframe and wildly waved around the hand not holding his coffee. "We _will_ get a hit on one of them soon, Rusty, I can promise you that," he said with determination before softening his tone to add, "I just can't tell you when _exactly_."

Rusty's brow creased, and for a moment Andy thought he might have actually gotten through to him, but then he mumbled, "Promises don't mean much when they're coming from a drunk."

That was the last straw for Andy. "Alright," he barked out, taking a step forward to enter the room properly, "that's it." He regretted the movement almost instantly when he saw Rusty flinch ever so slightly, but his ire would not allow him to stop talking. "Let's talk about that. Actually," Andy looked wildly around the room, before pinning Rusty with a hard look, "let me ask you something. Have you seen a single drop of alcohol in this condo? Have you seen me drink? Drunk? Hungover?" He fired the questions away in rapid succession. "Have you?"

Rusty swallowed noticeably, and he dropped his gaze to Andy's feet as he quietly said, "No." In the next second though, his eyes shot up to Andy's and with almost as much ire as Andy earlier, he added, "But you wouldn't be the first drunk who knew how to hide and get away with it!"

It was the realization that Rusty had more experience with alcoholics than his file let on, that caused Andy to deflate. His instincts told him to sit down next to Rusty on his bed, offer some comfort or reassurances, but instead, he decided to take a step back and lean against the doorframe again. He found the decision to be a good one, because Rusty's shoulders relaxed fractionally. "I'm not hiding it, Rusty," he said quietly. "In fact, my sobriety is one of the things you'll find I'm most honest about." He was quick to amend that statement as he waved both his hands around, nearly spilling his coffee. "Not that I have any intention of lying about anything else, but I've been sober for over fifteen years, Kid. I can't tell you if that'll forever stay that way, but I can promise you I'll do my best so that it does." He shrugged and added matter-of-factly, "It's a day-to-day kind of thing."

He braced himself for another verbal attack, but when Rusty spoke, he actually sounded like the child that he still was, or perhaps never really got to be. "You've really been sober that long?"

If Andy had to guess, he'd say the question sounded slightly hopeful. "Yeah," he answered simply. "Screwed up a lot of things when I wasn't," he admitted, "so now I've got more than enough incentive to stay on the wagon."

He could tell Rusty's wheels were turning. He glanced around the room. "Is that why these two spare rooms stay mostly empty?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Andy nodded. "Yeah," he confirmed gruffly, "pretty much." Trying to shake off the pang of regret that always shot through him when he thought about that, he cleared his throat and let the admission hang between them. He hoped that for the time being it would be enough information for Rusty.

It seemed to be because the boy suddenly returned to the topic of his mother. "If you're so sure you'll find my mom, why do you insist I study for this," he glanced at the computer, "placement test?"

After talking to the Captain the day before, Andy had looked up the school she recommended. He liked what he saw, and aside from placement test examples, found a list of reading material Rusty would need to prepare for it. Until he got him the hard copies, however, there was a small list of online sources Rusty could work on in addition to the site Cynthia gave him. He informed him about it this morning, but considering the cold shoulder he had been receiving ever since Cynthia visited, Andy wasn't sure Rusty had even been listening to him. He took the first sip of his coffee since knocking on Rusty's door and answered honestly. "Because you're a smart kid, Rusty. You could go a long way in school, if only you'd allow yourself to think about it."

Suddenly, Rusty closed his laptop, and with a couple of jerky movements he slid it off his lap and pushed it to the other side of the bed. "There's no place in school for people like me," he bit out as he resettled on the bed, "you and I both know that, so stop acting like it could ever happen."

"It _could_ happen, Rusty," Andy started to argue, taking a step forward to enter the room fully again.

Rusty did not let him continue. "I am not your child for you to be deciding that." He looked Andy up and down with a look of complete derision. "You are not my mom, okay? And certainly not," he scoffed, "my dad."

Andy rolled his eyes, his temper flaring up again. "Well, obviously," he said sarcastically. "What was your first clue?" he asked. "The fact that I was here trying to help, or the fact that I was trying to do so sober?"

He regretted the words even before Rusty's eyes grew wide, and a dumbfounded expression settled in his features. When he seemed rendered speechless, hoping to remedy the situation, Andy made a placating gesture, taking a step closer to Rusty's bed, and said, "I'm sorry, Kid, but this is just the way things are right now. Until we find your mom, I'm all you've got, and you'll just have to try to deal with that."

Rusty didn't respond. He merely shot Andy one last contemptible look and rolled onto his side, turning his back toward Andy.

Sighing, Andy slumped his shoulders and shook his head. Admitting defeat, he walked out of the room. "Good night, Rusty," he said quietly and closed the door without even waiting for the reply that never came.

-TBC-

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A/N: As always, we would love to know what you all think!


	3. Chapter 3

The overwhelming positive response from you all has been so wonderful and very encouraging. It gives us some much needed determination to continue on with the story that we have put a lot of time and effort into creating. Knowing that you readers are enjoying it as much as we have writing it is incredibly gratifying.

 _No matter how much I want to rave about my partner and her amazing writing once again, I shall refrain from doing so this time. I really hope y'all enjoy this chapter, it was a fun one to write._

 _~escapewithstories_

 _I have no such self-control so I shall rave and rave and rave about my partner in crime! I think she wrote some of my all-time favorite scenes in this chapter (although be warned I will most likely be saying this every other chapter) and I just can't wait to see your reaction to them! Enjoy!_

 _~IReadAndWriteSometimes_

* * *

THE SAME, YET DIFFERENT - CHAPTER THREE

Rusty startled awake, momentarily disoriented and unsure of where he was. The details of his dream eluded his memory, yet left him with a strange feeling that he couldn't describe. As the haze in his mind began to clear, realization of his whereabouts came to the forefront of his thoughts. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he tilted his head up to glance at the alarm clock that sat on the nightstand next to the bed and was surprised to see it was almost fifteen minutes past the usual time that Andy had been waking him up over the past week. Rusty considered closing his eyes again to get a little more rest in before Andy undoubtedly came in to wake him, but after a few seconds of deliberation, he flung the blankets off his body, opting for a few extra minutes in the shower instead.

Considering he had taken his time, Rusty was surprised to not be disturbed by Andy pounding on the bathroom door, telling him to hurry it up. He was even more surprised to not hear sounds coming from the TV, nor smell the scent of coffee in the air as he walked down the hall. Andy always watched the news and had a cup of coffee with his breakfast. Stepping into the entrance of the main rooms, he found them to all be empty. He was beginning to think the other man had slept in until he came upon a box of cereal sitting on the counter with a note and a keychain that had a single key attached. Rusty slid the note out from underneath it and gave it a quick read.

 _Rusty-_

 _Got called to a crime scene, and I'm not sure if I will be back by the time you wake. There's a uniform posted outside the door who will take you to the PAB once you're ready. Please lock up on your way out. If you don't want cereal, there's eggs and_ _real_ _bacon in the fridge, just don't burn the place down._

 _-Andy_

 _P.S. Be nice to the officer!_

Picking up the keychain, he turned his palm up, and tested the feel of it by gingerly bouncing his hand. He was surprised by how heavy it felt. He lifted it to eye level to get a good look at the keychain, and confirmed that it was indeed a pawn chess piece. An odd sensation, different from when he first woke, came over him. This was the first time that a foster parent had ever trusted him with a key to their home, much less one that was placed on a special keychain, and he wasn't sure what to think about it. He stared at it for a moment longer before placing it back on the counter and reaching up in the cabinet behind him to grab a bowl.

Rusty quickly ate his cereal, and placed the bowl and spoon in the sink. He grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge, then checked to make sure the laptop and study books were in his backpack before grabbing the key and heading to the front door. The officer waiting outside greeted him with a curt nod and a soft spoken, "good morning."

"Uh, morning," Rusty stammered awkwardly as he clumsily attempted to get the key into the lock.

He internally berated himself for behaving as though he had never locked a door before. After a couple more fumbles, he sighed in relief when his hands steadied and he successfully slipped the key in the deadbolt. Once the locks were turned, he jiggled the handle and gave the door a push to verify it was secure. He slipped the key into his front pocket, intensifying the odd sensation he'd been feeling upon finding it, and quietly followed the officer to the elevator.

Andy was fighting odd sensations, too, as he left the hospital and made his way back to the PAB. Before they jumped into their latest case, the Captain had informed him that Reno PD had apparently located Rusty's mother. She had taken the liberty of forwarding his contact information to the local police department since the next time they called it was likely going to be with Sharon Beck ready to get on the line. He didn't mind, and he was eager enough to finally speak to Rusty's mother, but his phone had slowly started to burn a hole in his pocket.

He wasn't sure what to make of that woman. On the one hand, he was glad that Rusty seemed to be getting a chance to see his mother again. On the other, he was finding it difficult to hold back the urge to be wary of her, protect Rusty from possible renewed disappointment and most of all to give her a piece of his mind for ever abandoning her son in the first place. He also worried that reuniting those two wouldn't be as easy as Rusty or even he wished.

Those were the thoughts battling for dominance in his head as he made his way back to the PAB. Once there, he found Julio already waiting for the elevator, so he quietly joined him. Stepping inside when the elevator arrived, they hit the number for their floor and the doors were just about to close when they saw their Captain approach. Julio reached a hand out, causing the doors to again slide fully open for her.

"Thank you," Sharon said, stepping inside in front of them and turning her back to them. With one hand she smoothed down her jacket, while her other pressed a button to get the elevator moving.

After going up a few floors, Julio lifted the strange silence that settled over them. "So, Lieutenant, where's Rusty?"

Andy looked at him, and noted a much too bemused expression on the detective's face which matched his amused tone. With a slight touch of humor though, he said, "Upstairs, probably giving his uniformed babysitter a run for his money."

Julio chuckled. "He still giving you a rough time, Sir?"

"Well," Andy's voice thinned as he dragged the word out, "I'm starting to redefine the definition of a rough time, Julio."

At that even Sharon chuckled. "Well," Julio said, his amused eyes on his Captain now, "hopefully he'll be out of your hair now that they've found his mom," he decided.

Andy shrugged, neither agreeing or disagreeing, and left it at that.

Once the elevator reached their floor, and they stepped off, Julio made a detour to the men's room, leaving Andy and Sharon to make their way to the murder room without him. They'd barely taken a few steps when Andy's phone started buzzing.

"Here goes," he muttered, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

"Reno PD?" Sharon asked over a curious look.

He merely nodded, the area code on the unknown number confirmation enough that it was, and accepted the call as they continued their way down the hall. "Lieutenant Flynn."

"Good morning, Lieutenant Flynn," a female voice said, "I'm Officer Tanner with Reno PD. I'm calling in regards to Sharon Beck. Your Captain said you were Rusty Beck's foster parent?"

"Yeah, that's right," Andy replied, nervously rubbing his index finger over his eyebrow. "You've got her?" Not knowing which answer he dreaded more, one in the negative or the affirmative, he glanced toward his Captain. She offered a tight-lipped, encouraging smile, but that did little to settle his anxiety.

"Yes, Sir," the officer replied, "she's right here actually."

"Really?" he asked, swallowing, but without waiting for an answer, continued. "Can I talk to her?" He suddenly felt both nervous and agitated, but the thought of Rusty and his best interests had him decide to be as forthcoming and civil with her as he could possibly be, regardless of his current personal opinions of her.

"Of course." After a few seconds of silence, crackling announced the change of speaker before he heard Sharon Beck's voice for the first time.

"Hello?" She sounded a bit insecure, but went straight to the point with her next question. "You have Rusty?"

They walked into the final hallway looking into the murder room, so Andy took a quick look around and found Rusty sitting behind his by then usual desk. He took a quiet breath. "Yes, Miss Beck. I'm looking at him right now actually."

Sharon picked up her pace at that, Andy noted, and walked up to Rusty. As he listened to the loud sigh on the other line, of relief perhaps, he watched as she told him something and he got up to follow her once she started walking to her office. "Oh," Sharon Beck let out somewhat excitedly, "can you put him on, please?"

Andy paused at his desk, nodding reassuringly at Rusty as he walked past, a puzzled look on his face. "Yes, of course," he nodded even though the woman couldn't see him, "just give me a second."

"Okay," Rusty's mother replied.

Andy lowered the phone, covered its microphone and poked his head into the Captain's open office. He found her closing the door to her conference room, and as she moved to take a seat behind her desk, not needing any prompting, she tilted her head to the side in the direction of Rusty who had sat down behind a conference table and said, "I assumed you'd like some privacy."

Andy nodded and entered her office. "Yeah," he replied distractedly. His eyes sought out Rusty and he made his way to the conference room door.

When he opened it, Rusty instantly got to his feet. "What's going on, Andy?" He sounded more worried than annoyed.

Andy waved his phone at him. "Got your mother on the line," he said simply.

Rusty's eyes grew large and he plopped down into the chair. "What?"

Andy had to smile at the boy's reaction. "Yeah, Kid." He offered him his phone. "She wants to talk to you."

Somewhat hesitant Rusty took the phone and pulled it up to his ear. "Mom?" he said, his voice just above a whisper.

Andy stepped back into his Captain's office, not wanting to intrude on Rusty's conversation. That odd feeling settled in him again, and for a moment he wanted to sag against the door once he closed it, but then he remembered where he was, or more importantly, whom he was with. "Thanks, Captain," he mumbled to her, turning around to watch Rusty. He was waving his hands around, speaking into the phone animatedly.

"He looks happy," Sharon commented.

Andy smiled. "Yeah, he does, doesn't he?" He had never seen Rusty this excited over anything. He quickly sighed though and turned to the Captain. "He's gonna flip out when he finds out he won't be released into her custody right away."

Sharon shrugged. "Maybe he surprises you," she said optimistically.

Andy went on as if she hadn't said anything. "And that's assuming Sharon Beck even wants to return to LA." He scoffed. "If she's left him once…" he trailed off, turning to look at Rusty again.

"And if she does?" Sharon asked. "Want to return?" she clarified.

Andy's brow drew together as he slanted her a look. She had propped her elbows on her desk, rested her chin in one of her hands and raised an eyebrow at him. He had a feeling she had more than just an inkling about some of the thoughts that had crossed his mind that morning, and he wasn't sure whether to find that disturbing or reassuring. "She's probably broke, and we don't have an arrest warrant for her," he said slowly, his wheels turning. He glanced at the murder room and suppressed an eye roll when the team quickly started pretending not to be watching the office with keen interest. "Maybe we could all chip in for a ticket?" He looked back at Sharon and shrugged. "I mean, how expensive can a bus ticket be?" On a nervous chuckle, he added, "Buzz might just offer to pay for the whole thing himself."

Sharon chuckled but answered rather somberly. "I'll gladly chip in, Andy," she said, her gaze landing on Rusty. "Especially if it means reuniting a son with his mother," she added softly.

Andy nodded, following her gaze. "Yeah," he said gruffly. He agreed with her wholeheartedly, but that odd feeling remained and settled deep in his chest. Despite the rocky status of his and Rusty's relationship, and if he ignored the urge to protect Rusty whichever way he could, he realized that he had gotten used to him. Things had improved considerably over just a few short days. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might actually miss having Rusty around once his mother was allowed to take him in again.

However, there was also the question of whether she even would be allowed to do so. With a pang of anger, he realized the circumstances under which Rusty was abandoned would have to be addressed before any changes to their current arrangement could even be considered. It was really up to DCFS to make the call, but Andy decided he would give Sharon Beck a good look in the eye himself before letting go of his foster son.

"You actually found her!" Rusty exclaimed, bursting through the door, startling Andy out of his musings.

He offered Sharon an apologetic look and noted that she had seen Rusty coming, for she was the first to respond to him. "We promised we would, Rusty," she said over a small smile.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Rusty agreed distractedly. He was clutching Andy's phone in between his hands. He squeezed it a little more tightly as he announced, "She wants to come to LA!"

There was no way for Andy not to smile at Rusty's beaming face. "That's great," he told him honestly. "When is she coming?"

"Oh," Rusty seemed to suddenly remember he was still holding the phone, and he looked at it in surprise. "Mom's still on the line." He offered it back to Andy. "Wanted to figure out the details with you." When Andy took it, Rusty added on a shrug, "You know, do it all by the book since I'm in your care..."

Rusty watched intently as Andy lifted the phone to his ear, and found himself nodding along with Andy even though he had no idea what his mother was saying on the other end.

"Yes, Rusty mentioned you needed to work out some details." Andy was staring at his feet as he spoke, trying to ignore the eager teenager bouncing excitedly next to him. "Well, I was actually just speaking with my Captain," he quickly glanced up at her before returning his gaze downward again, "and we think we could get the department to purchase a bus ticket for you."

Rusty's eyes widened, and he turned to look at the Captain for confirmation. He wanted to clap for joy when she smiled and nodded in confirmation, however, the unexpected downturn in Andy's voice when he said, "Oh, I see," had him quickly snapping his head back to look at Andy. Finding his brow was also furrowed did nothing to decrease Rusty's sudden worry.

"What?" The panic and volume in Rusty's voice rose as he continued firing off questions. "What's wrong? She's still coming, right?"

"One moment, Miss Beck." Andy pressed the phone to his chest and held up his hand to stop the barrage of questions Rusty was bombarding him with. "Nothing's wrong except I can't hear her right now." He gave Rusty a pointed look, silently telling him to chill. "Excuse me while I finish talking to your mom." He walked through the conference room door that Rusty had left open, and closed it behind him, drowning out his end of the conversation.

Rusty turned to the Captain and asked once again, "She's still coming to LA, right?"

The look on his face and the small voice in which the question was asked, made her heart clench. "Andy said nothing's wrong, so it's most likely just some small details they have to work out is all." She put on her most reassuring smile, and was grateful that it seemed to work when Rusty offered a small smile in return.

Rusty watched Andy through the window, and paid extra attention to his expressions, trying to determine if he still seemed concerned. His face remained passive, and he made broad, random gestures with his hands as he spoke, something that Rusty quickly learned he often did when speaking. As far as he could tell, it seemed to be just a regular conversation.

By the time he hung up the phone, Rusty's excitement had returned, and he barged into the conference room once again. "Everything okay?"

"Yea, Kid," Andy said as he pocketed his phone. "We just had a few details to work out regarding bus schedules." He stepped past Rusty, and closed the door that he left open once again. There was still more for them to discuss, and he didn't want to disturb the Captain in her office.

"I still can't believe you found her." Rusty started pacing back and forth in front of the conference table. "She sounded so happy when I talked to her." He stopped and looked at Andy with the biggest smile that had crossed his features since they had found him. "Did she sound happy to you?"

"She does seem to be excited about seeing you," Andy confirmed, unable to suppress his own responding smile, although it wasn't quite as wide. He really hoped Rusty's excitement wasn't all for nothing.

"Yea," Rusty put his hands in his jean pockets and rocked back on his heels, "that's what she said." His hand absentmindedly wrapped around an object, and he palmed it a few times before registering what it was. "Oh!" He removed and held it out for Andy. "I guess I should give this back now."

Rusty was gripping the key Andy had left him, but he was able to see the trinket dangling from the end. He had impulsively bought it a few days ago when he and Provenza stopped at a gas station on their way back to the PAB. While Provenza filled up the tank, he had gone inside to get them some coffee. There was a display rack next to the register that held several different style of key chains, and without thinking, he plucked the small chess piece one off the rack and purchased it.

Andy made no move to take the key. "You should hold onto it." He shrugged. "Today may have been the first time I had to leave the condo without you," he huffed out a short, mirthless laugh, "but it definitely won't be the last."

"Yea, but my mom is coming back," Rusty extended his hand a little more forcefully, causing the keyring to jingle, "so here."

"Rusty." Andy sighed deeply and rolled his shoulders, preparing himself for what was sure to be a difficult conversation. "It's not that simple."

"What do you mean?" There was an edge in Rusty's tone and he took on a slightly defensive stance.

Andy rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "It's not up to me if you can go back to living with your mom."

"Why does it have to be up to anyone?" He ran his fingers of one hand up through his hair, gripping tightly to the ends. "She's my mom." He released his hold on his hair, leaving several strands sticking out on the side of his head.

A crease briefly formed across Andy's forehead as he wondered, and not for the first time, if Rusty understood the severity of his mother's actions, or if he actively chose to remain oblivious to avoid the heartache of the truth; he mostly thought it was the latter. "Because," he started slowly, hating the need to point out the obvious, "she abandoned you at the zoo."

Rusty let out a noise that was a mix between a groan and a growl. "She only left me because Gary made her." He turned his back to Andy and braced his hands on the chair in front of him. "She was afraid he would hurt me. None of this would've happened if it wasn't for him." He pushed off from the chair again and turned to face Andy again, a look of anguish altering his features.

It never ceased to amaze Andy that Rusty could so easily forgive his mother for leaving him in such a way, regardless of the reason given, and that he still wanted to be with her. "I'm sure that will be taken into account," he responded diplomatically, deciding it was best to not dwell, "but before you can stay with her again, a judge and DCFS have to give their approval."

Rusty swallowed past the lump that was forming in his throat. "Will I even get to see her?" He nervously rubbed his palms against his jean-clad thighs, unconsciously slipping the keychain he still held into his pocket.

"Of course," Andy paused briefly before quietly adding, "but they will have to be supervised visits."

"What is it with you people and babysitters?" Rusty spat out.

Any other time, Andy would've chuckled at the kid's ongoing grumblings regarding his sitters, but laughing was the last thing on his mind right now. "I know it's not ideal, but-"

"Not ideal?" Rusty was practically shouting now. "She makes a bad decision _once_ , and now we have to be," his face twisted up in disgust, "supervised just to spend time together."

"Okay, okay." Andy held up his hands in a placating manner, hoping to calm Rusty somewhat. "I get that you're upset, but let's focus on the positive." He waited for Rusty to take a few calming breaths before continuing. "We found your mom and she's coming to LA. We'll figure out the rest as we go." Then he voiced the mantra he had repeated to himself many times over the years. "Just take it one day at a time."

"Okay," Rusty nodded once. His mood was more subdued than before, but there was still a spark of hope and excitement glittering in his eyes. "When is she supposed to get here?"

"Not sure yet." Andy leaned back against the door, relieved that Rusty's outburst was fairly mild. "Probably sometime this evening. I have to get everything settled with the bus ticket first."

"Right." Rusty nodded absentmindedly as he absorbed all of the information he had just been given. "Okay."

"Why don't you go grab your stuff and bring it in here." Andy nodded his head toward the conference table. "You can play some chess online while I talk with the Captain and get this all worked out."

Rusty didn't put forth any objections, and immediately moved to do as suggested. Andy waited until he exited out the side door, before simultaneously knocking and opening the one leading into Sharon's office. "Sorry to interrupt again, Captain."

Sharon looked up from the small file she had opened on her desk. "It's not a bother." She waved off his concern with a flick of her wrist. "What did Sharon Beck have to say?"

Andy was quiet for a moment as he turned to watch Rusty gather his backpack. "She's asking for an additional $400 on top of the price of the bus ticket," he turned to finally look at his boss, a frown twisting his features, "claiming she owes that Gary guy."

"Oh." Sharon leaned back in her chair, and crossed one leg over the other.

"Yea." Andy's gaze returned back towards his foster son.

"I'm sure everyone will still be willing to pitch in." Sharon shrugged a single shoulder. "I know I am."

"Yea," Andy distractedly responded again.

Sharon carefully regarded him for a few moments as his eyes tracked Rusty back to the adjoining conference room. "It seems as though something is still bothering you," she lightly prodded.

"He's just so excited, and…" Andy lifted his shoulders, then heavily dropped them back down, causing his hands to bounce against his thighs.

"You're afraid he's going to get his heart broken again," Sharon said knowingly. "Has she given you indication she will disappoint him again?"

"Well, no," Andy admitted with a sheepish smile. "She actually seemed genuinely concerned and like she really missed him," he admitted. "I don't know though," he reached up and scratched his temple with his thumb, "it's hard to get a read on someone over the phone."

There was a quick knock at the door, followed by Buzz's head peeking in. "Captain," he gave Andy a cursory glance, "Lieutenant. The suspect's boyfriend is on his way up."

"Thank you, Buzz. We will be there shortly." Sharon waited until he retreated before turning her focus back on Andy to address his concerns. "Well, Lieutenant," Sharon uncrossed her legs and rolled her chair back under her desk, "I'd say it's a good thing you will get the chance to meet Sharon Beck face to face." She rose from her seat and headed towards her office door. Before opening it, she glanced back at him, and with a note of finality in her voice, she repeated the exact same thought he had earlier. "You can get a real good look at her in the eye, and decide what to really think then."

Andy smiled knowingly, quickly deducing the double meaning to her words—there was no use wasting time worrying over uncertainties. He reminded himself to focus on one thing at a time. "If you don't mind, Captain, I'm going to get the bus ticket squared away, then I will meet everyone in electronics."

She gave him a nod and one final, small smile, then exited her office, leaving the door open for him to follow.

. . .

"Oh, here we go." Andy and Rusty both stood up from the bench when the bus pulled up.

For the majority of the afternoon, the kid had been bouncing with excitement, so much so that while Andy was out tracking down witnesses, he called three times, in addition to the call he received from Buzz, to make sure he would be back on time. Now, Rusty seemed to be more anxious and concerned than anything. Andy had almost chuckled when the kid was giving him pointers on how to interact with a new person. He wanted to tell Rusty he should try heeding his own advice every once in awhile, but not wanting to upset the kid any further, he wisely kept his mouth shut.

As person after person filed off the bus, Rusty's anxiety seemed to increase with each passing person, and Andy could feel his own agitation growing. He frowned when no one else seemed to be exiting the bus, and no one matching the picture he had on him had walked by. Not to mention Rusty never excitedly greeted any of the passengers.

Andy bounded up the bus steps and quickly scanned its interior, confirming no one else was inside.

"Dammit," Andy hissed to himself. He stepped back down onto the pavement and noticed Rusty looked like he was going to be ill. "Hold on," he held out his hand, hoping to stave off one of the kid's freak outs. "Excuse me," Andy got the attention of the bus driver. "Have you seen this woman?"

As the bus driver explained Sharon Beck never got back on the bus after making the phone call in Bakersfield, Andy simultaneously felt his chest constrict and his anger flare at the thought of Rusty being disappointed by his mother again. Those emotions were quickly replaced by panic when he turned around and realized that the kid had vanished.

"Rusty!" Andy shouted, glancing around the immediate area, hoping to spot him, but not having any luck. How the kid could disappear in such a short amount of time was beyond him; his back was only turned for a second.

Not seeing Rusty anywhere outside, Andy quickly walked towards the entrance of the main building on the off chance he went inside. Luckily, the place wasn't overly packed and he was able to easily scan through the crowd. However, Rusty was still nowhere in sight. There was an information desk off to his left, but no one sitting at it.

"A lot of help that is," he mumbled to himself.

His gaze swept the gaggle of bodies one more time, with no success. He caught sight of the restrooms sign above all of the heads, and swiftly made his way across the open expanse of the lobby in its pointed direction. Arriving at the restrooms, he paused long enough to make sure he was at the men's room, then barreled through the door, almost crashing into a man on the other side.

"Sorry," Andy called over his shoulder, but didn't slow down. "Rusty!" He ignored the glare of the man at a urinal, and continued to walk toward the short row of stalls. "Are you in here?"

All but one of them was empty, and when he took a quick peek under the door of the one that was occupied, he noted those were definitely not Rusty's shoes. Andy groaned in frustration and left the restroom even faster than he entered it. Back in the lobby, he noticed that most of the crowd had dispersed and Rusty was not amongst the few people that were left. He stood in the middle of the area, hands braced on his hips, trying to determine what his next move should be. It suddenly dawned on him that Rusty could be waiting for him by the car.

At a brisk pace that was almost a run, Andy set out for the parking lot. When his car was in sight, he was able to see that the kid was not anywhere in the near vicinity. He found himself hoping that just this once he forgot to lock the doors, and Rusty was maybe sitting inside the vehicle. There was just enough light emitting from a streetlamp that was a few spaces over from where he was parked, and once he was close enough, he confirmed that he did not leave the doors unlocked and Rusty was not sitting in the passenger or backseat waiting for him. That still didn't stop him from giving the door handles a tug once he was close enough.

"Dammit!" Andy pounded the roof of the car with the side of his fist. "Why did you turn away from him?" he scolded himself.

Andy walked to the front of his car and braced his palms on the hood. He took a few deep breaths, attempting to remain in control of his quickly slipping emotions so he could figure out his next move. He took one more calming breath and tugged his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up his Captain's contact and hit the call button. After several rings and it eventually going to voicemail, he jammed his thumb forcefully over the 'end call' button, and drew on all the self control he could muster to not throw his phone across the parking lot. He still needed it to call Central and ask for additional units to help him in his search.

Less than five minutes later, three patrol units had joined Andy in the bus station parking lot. Even though he had already given dispatch Rusty's description, he went over all of the details again with the officers standing before him.

"If you haven't already, you should be receiving a picture from Central," Andy unlocked his phone, and pulled up his photos, "but just in case, here it is again." He held out his phone once he found the right one, and let each of them take a good look. "However, his hair is a little shaggier now." The picture he had was from DCFS, and it amazed him how much Rusty had changed in such a short time. "He's 5'7 and is wearing a light blue zip-up hoodie," Andy looked down at his own shirt, "about the same shade as my own shirt actually," he said with a note of wonder in his tone. He seemed to be hung up on that small detail until one of the officers politely cleared his throat, reminding him to continue. "Sorry," Andy shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Under the hoodie, he has a plaid button down on over a solid green shirt, and he's in jeans. Also," he huffed out a mirthless laugh when he thought about the one possession that rarely left the kid's side, "he will definitely be carrying an olive green, khaki colored backpack as well."

"Understood, Sir," an officer by the name of Garza responded for the entire group as they began dispersing to head back to their vehicles.

"Oh," Andy reached into the interior breast pocket of his suit jacket, "if you do find him, please call me directly." He handed them each one of his cards before finally letting them commence their search.

After he had gotten behind the wheel of his own vehicle, but before he put the car in drive, Andy tried calling the Captain one more time. He sighed in partial relief when she picked up on the second ring.

"Lieutenant Flynn, I'm sorry I was unable to take your call earlier. We're in-"

"Captain," Andy interrupted, wanting to get straight to the point, "I have a problem." He paused, hating having to say it again. "Rusty ran off."

"What? What do you mean Rusty ran off?"

"Sharon Beck was a no show," Andy practically growled out, letting his frustrations with the woman that caused the situation momentarily surface. "I turned my back for _one second_ ," his voice was lined with exasperation, still not believing how quickly it all happened, "to ask the driver if she was ever on the bus, and when I turned back around, he was just gone."

"How long ago did he go missing?"

Andy pinned his phone between his ear and shoulder, then tilted his wrist so he could see the watch face. "About 20 minutes." He finally put his car into gear and slowly rolled towards the parking lot exit. "I was just wondering if you guys were back at PAB on the off chance he shows up there." There was no disguising the hopefulness in his tone.

"We are still at the hospital, but I will send Buzz or Lieutenant Provenza ahead of the rest of us just in case."

"Yea, okay," Andy said with more than just a little disappointment. "I'm going to join patrol and search the surrounding streets." A lump was forming in his throat and before she could say anything in response, he quickly added, "I will eventually meet you all back in the murder room," and he hung up the phone.

Andy spent an hour searching the streets with patrol having no luck. As he rode the elevator up to the ninth floor, he was really beginning to think he had lost Rusty for good; all because he was foolish enough to turn away. He should've known how upset the kid would be when his mom didn't keep her promise...again. When the elevator chimed and the doors opened onto the correct floor, he stepped out, shoving his hands into his pockets, and slowly trudged down the hall towards the murder room.

As he approached the area just outside of his Captain's office, he heard light chatter from the squad, but once he stepped into the room and they noticed him, it quickly died away. He didn't bother with niceties, but came to a halt in the middle of the room instead and looked to his partner.

"Anything new?" he asked even though he knew Provenza would have called him already if Rusty had perhaps miraculously shown up in the murder room.

"Sorry, Flynn," Provenza said sadly. He took in Andy's appearance. His hair was ruffled, as if he had run his hand through it more than just a couple of times. The knot on his tie wasn't as neatly tied as it usually was, and there was no missing the worried crease that seemed permanently etched into his forehead. It had been a while since he had last seen Andy quite this upset, and for the first time he entertained the idea that Andy had actually grown attached to the boy. "Nothing yet," he added.

Andy sighed, tugging on the lapels of his jacket as if tightening it around him might alleviate some of the anxious energy that was coursing through him. "Great," he mumbled sarcastically, then turned to walk up to his desk. "I leave him out of my sight for a split second," he muttered, more to himself than to the team as he forcefully plopped down into his chair. Grabbing the edge of his desk, he turned the chair to face the squad and added, more loudly, "And now he's gone!"

"It could have happened to any of us, Sir," Julio offered on a shrug.

"Yeah," Andy agreed. "But it happened to me now, didn't it?" he added bitterly.

"It's not your fault, Andy," Provenza said, buttoning up his sleeves, not needing to even look at his partner to know he'd disagree. "We've got as many officers as we can spare out there looking for him, they've got his picture, we'll find him."

Andy nodded, not looking too convinced. "I can only hope."

"Lieutenant Flynn, is there any news?" Sharon asked as she entered the murder room and saw Andy.

It was Provenza who replied on a shake of his head. "Not yet, Captain."

Sharon let out a contemplative hum, tightening the hold on her purse as she glanced over the murder room. "Perhaps you should go home, Lieutenant," she told Andy. He opened his mouth to clearly disagree, but she quickly added, "On the off chance that Rusty returns home on his own." Not waiting for Andy's reply, she turned to the rest of the team. "You should also call it a night." She offered a small smile. "That was great work today, everyone, you deserve a break."

The team, all but Provenza and Andy, did not need telling twice and immediately started packing up. Provenza couldn't quite believe he was about to agree with the Captain, but he found himself saying, "She's right, Flynn. Go home, you'll be of no use to the kid if you're dead on your feet when you get back out there to look for him."

Andy didn't respond, but watched as the team slowly filed out after offering him a word or two of hopeful encouragement before bidding him, Provenza and the Captain a good night.

Once the last of them left, Sharon walked up to Andy's desk. "Go home, Andy," she told him gently, adjusting the hold on her purse again. "If there is any news, you'll be the first to know." She tapped her fingers against the edge of his desk. "In the meantime, I can stay here until Rusty turns up.

"Yes," Provenza suddenly got to his feet and walked toward Andy's desk as well. "I'll stay, too, in case he shows up here," he assured him, shooting his Captain a slightly annoyed look. He could hardly believe she'd go to this length just to make sure the Stroh case located its precious witness again. Especially since he doubted very much that Andy's worry had anything to do with Rusty's witness status. But then again, this was the infamous Rulebook Raydor that was standing next to him.

Andy rubbed a hand over his face. "I can't ask you to do that," he argued, addressing Sharon more than Provenza.

Provenza interjected before Sharon could respond. "You didn't, we offered." He waved a hand at him, and with a slightly softer edge reiterated, "Go home, Andy."

Andy dropped his gaze to the floor and started nodding for a few moments before finally relenting and getting to his feet. "You're right," he told them both. "But," he pointed a finger at Provenza, "the second you hear something, call me."

Provenza rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he waved a hand at him, "now go away."

Andy shot him a bland look, then, pointedly ignoring Provenza, turned to his Captain. "Thank you," he said politely, "good night."

"Good night, Lieutenant," Sharon told his already retreating back.

Once Andy was out of earshot, Provenza addressed her. "You don't have to stay, you know."

"Neither do you, Lieutenant," Sharon countered.

She sounded suspiciously amused, so he narrowed his eyes at her, and muttered, "I want to."

"As do I, Lieutenant," she said on a smile.

Provenza turned toward his desk again, and rolled his eyes. The woman always had to have the last word and it annoyed the hell out of him. By the time he sat behind his desk, he had expected her to retreat to her office, but instead found her leaning a hip against Andy's desk and looking at him, a contemplative look on her face. A frown appearing on his own, he asked, "What?"

She offered a sad smile, and quietly, rather genuinely actually, said, "I hope we find him."

With that Provenza couldn't disagree. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"For both their sakes," Sharon added.

That had Provenza look at her curiously. She had said the words softly, almost worriedly, and most importantly as if she had more to say. What prompted him to voice his earlier thoughts, he had no idea, but he found himself grumbling, "Flynn's gotten attached to the kid, hasn't he?"

"Do you really think," she tilted her head to the side, "that's such a bad thing, Lieutenant?" Her tone indicated she correctly assumed that he wasn't too thrilled about it.

Provenza shrugged and started digging through his drawer in search of a crossword puzzle in a purposeful attempt to avoid her gaze. "It's a distraction," he muttered. He could understand his partner's motives, but he knew splitting one's focus was never a good thing in their line of business.

Sharon hummed in a way that let him know she disagreed with him. "There are worse distractions in the world," she decided.

It was the off-handed manner in which she said it that prompted Provenza to flop the located crossword against his desk with a noisy slap, and to say, "We've also had enough changes around here to last me a lifetime."

He knew she recognized the jab at her, when just fractionally her eyes narrowed at him before she quickly schooled her features. He took some odd satisfaction in it, but then an equally fractional smile crossed her lips, and she turned to face him fully. If he didn't know better he'd say she was suppressing a smirk. "About that," she started lightly, her voice taking on that slightly higher pitch that was one of the many things that irritated him about her, "how is your search for a more fair workplace going?"

He glared at her. She knew precisely how it was going. He hasn't up and left now, has he? As a matter of fact, he thought they had come to a silent agreement to split responsibilities between each other and, in doing so, avoid stepping on each other's toes. If he was perfectly honest with himself, he rather liked taking charge at crime scenes. It wasn't something Chief Johnson ever allowed, but the fact had him wonder if his new boss prefered it because she had more faith in his abilities or not enough in her own. "Well, I can't leave now," he grumbled. He waved a hand at Andy's desk. "Not when Flynn's got a situation on his hands that is bound to explode in his face!"

Sharon let out a small laugh, making a quick half-turn to glance over at Andy's desk. "He does have his hands full," she said, her voice indicating that did not worry her in the least. "However, I don't see why that can't be a good thing, for both Lieutenant Flynn and Rusty." She shrugged at Provenza. "It has been going rather well so far, hasn't it? All things considered."

Provenza shot her a bland, incredulous look. "You seem to be forgetting that the kid took off, Captain."

Sharon nodded, a sad shadow flickering across her features. "I have faith we will find him, or," the corners of her mouth took a brief downward turn as she pursed her lips, "that he will find us again."

Suppressing an eye roll, when he realized he was about to repeat her earlier words, Provenza licked a finger and started leafing through his crossword puzzle before mumbling, "For both their sakes."

He stole a glance at her and found her smiling again. It only renewed his urge to roll his eyes at her, but instead he grabbed his pen when he found a puzzle he had not filled out yet and barely acknowledged her response. "Exactly."

He was already busy scribbling down an answer, when he heard her footsteps retreating as she walked toward her office. He had gotten another one in, when he heard her approaching again. He looked up, wondering what she could possibly want now. "Anything I can do for you, Captain?" he drawled, rolling his pen between his fingers, his offer nowhere near being an honest one.

"It might be a long night," Sharon easily replied. She pointed a finger in the direction of the break room, which is when he noticed she had taken off her purse, and added, "I was thinking about making myself a cup of coffee. Would you like one, too?"

For a moment, he was rendered speechless, but he snapped out of it before he could be caught staring at her stupidly. "Still not giving up on taking me out for drinks, are you, Captain?" he asked sarcastically.

"Oh," her voice dipped low for a second, "I have a reputation for many things, Lieutenant, but you and I both know that giving up is not one of them."

The sentence was laced in good natured humor, and he found himself holding back a chuckle, because, yes, Captain Sharon Raydor was many things, but certainly not a quitter. Deciding to stand his ground, he said, "A drink will still not improve our work relationship, Captain."

That didn't throw her either, and he had to give her credit for that. "So, is that a no then?" she asked over an unimpressed raise of an eyebrow.

Oh, he wanted to say no. But he realized that a little caffeine boost did sound nice just about now. He wondered if the struggle showed on his face, because she was starting to look fairly amused. Deciding he did indeed want coffee, and considering it a plus that he didn't have to get up and get some himself, he finally grumbled, making sure she knew she ought not to read anything into his answer, "That's a _yes_ , actually. I could do with some coffee."

Her face remained impassive, but her almost cheerful response told him she did read into his reply more than he wanted her to. "A coffee coming right up then, Lieutenant."

Returning to his crossword puzzle, almost begrudgingly, he said, "Thanks," and listened to her walk away to the break room.

…

When Andy entered his condo, he leaned against the door with a heavy sigh. His worry and anxiety had reached a point where standing idly by caused his body to almost physically ache, but he couldn't disagree with his partner and Captain. Frantically searching the city streets would be of little help and if Rusty did decide to return to the condo on his own, it would be better for Andy to be there when he did.

Trying to shake off that uncomfortable feeling and to untie that tight knot that had settled deep in his gut, he rolled his shoulders and neck and took a deep breath before pushing off his door. Foregoing his usual routine, he pocketed his keys instead of disposing of them on the small table opposite of him along with his cuffs and badge, and padded quietly down the hallway to Rusty's room. His feeble hope of finding that Rusty had made his way home on his own was quickly crushed when he discovered the room to be dark and empty.

He lingered in the doorway for a second, taking in the way nothing in the room was out of place and the way the bed was made nice and tight. Although he had only dim light emanating from the hallway, he could tell there wasn't a single crease on the bedding. He smiled a little to himself, proud that Rusty was this tidy despite all the time he had spent left to his own devices and more importantly on the street. His room, however, also made Andy realize that nothing in it indicated there ever was a teenage boy occupying it. He shook his head slowly at the thought and turned around to make his way into the kitchen. Rusty hadn't really been there long enough for either one of them to consider re-decorating, but there was this traitorous question at the back of Andy's mind; would insisting Rusty added a personal touch to the room perhaps remind him that he was welcome there and would it make the boy think twice before running off like he did that night?

Lost in thought Andy walked toward his kitchen on autopilot. He was just about to open his fridge in search of a cool bottle of water when a familiar voice reached him.

"Hi, Andy."

He froze for a moment, then abruptly turned around to find none other than Rusty sitting at the dining table. He had a pen in his hand and was in the middle of writing something down on a piece of paper in front of him. Next to that was his chessboard, but from the look of it, Rusty hadn't been playing a game.

"Rusty," he choked out, the water he was looking for now completely forgotten.

Rusty put his pen down and sheepishly asked, "Did you close your case?"

Andy gave him an incredulous look. "Did we close our case?" he repeated, both confused and shocked that Rusty would ask about something that was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. He snapped out of it with a shake of his head. "Yeah." He waved it off with a flick of his hand, and moved toward the dining table. When he sat down, he couldn't contain his burning question, "Rusty, _where_ have you been?"

Rusty dropped his gaze to his papers and let a single finger start rolling the pen up and down the table surface. "Around," he answered on a noncommittal shrug.

The knot in Andy's gut that had disappeared once he laid eyes on Rusty returned at the utterly devastated tone of the boy's answer. "I'm really sorry, Rusty." He had a strange urge to reach a hand out, squeeze Rusty's shoulder in comfort, but refrained and clasped his hands together on top of the table. "I wish your mom made good on her promise. I really do."

Rusty shook his head and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as a determined expression settled on his face. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Andy noted that for once Rusty didn't jump to his mother's defense, and the fact only added to the already simmering anger he felt toward the woman. Suddenly, the Captain's suggestion from the other day popped into his head. "How about talking about it to someone else?" he offered on a shrug.

Momentarily Rusty looked at him in puzzlement before his face turned horrified. "You mean, like a shrink?"

Andy shrugged again and tilted his head to the side. "Well, yeah, it might-"

"No," Rusty cut him off. "My mom standing me up does not make me crazy!"

Andy tapped a hand against the table in a placating manner. "I'm not saying that it does, Rusty, but-"

"No," Rusty repeated stubbornly, tightening his crossed arms.

Andy sighed, refraining from muttering to himself 'that went well'. "Okay," he relented, deciding to table the discussion for the time being. He leaned back in his chair, and folded his own arms across his chest. "Can I at least ask you something then?" A crease appeared on his brow as his gaze turned more piercing. "And I need you to answer honestly?"

Rusty shot him a wary look, but nodded.

"Why'd you run away tonight?" Andy asked, genuinely curious.

Rusty swallowed, then avoided his gaze again. "I don't cry in front of people," he said quietly. His voice turned even smaller when he added, "And when she didn't get off that bus, I started to cry."

If Andy was the crying type, he would have started fighting tears just then at the admission, too. Instead, his voice took on a gruff edge filled with sympathy. "I'm really sorry, Kid."

Rusty met his eyes again, looking on the verge of tears again. "I know," he said on a nod. "But I-"

"Don't want to talk about it," Andy supplied on a nod of his own. "Got it," he added on a small smile, waving his hand in understanding, too.

Rusty considered him over a narrow-eyed look, then unfolded his arms and nodded again. "Thanks."

"You scared me there for a second," Andy admitted.

"I did?" Rusty asked, surprised.

Andy threw his arms out, suddenly letting irritation take over his earlier worry and anxiety. "You just vanished, I had no clue where you were!" He took a breath, making a conscious effort to calm himself down and put his hands on the table. "I was worried, Rusty," he added and it was only then that it really dawned on him how much and why. He had stopped seeing Rusty as a hostile street kid who happened to be a witness in one of their cases and needed a place to crash for a few nights. If he was honest with himself, he never really viewed him as that to begin with, but now he knew for sure that he actually cared for Rusty, this lost boy, who didn't deserve any of what had happened to him in such a short time, and he found himself wanting to give him what his real parents should have wanted to give him even before he was born. He'd want to help even if he wasn't tied to the Stroh case.

"Sorry," Rusty mumbled, sounding rather genuine. "I just," he paused, his brow creasing as he focused on rolling his pen again, "reacted," he finished lamely. "But," his tone took on an argumentative note, "I can take care of myself."

Andy wanted to tell him he didn't have to take care of himself that way anymore, but decided to hold his tongue. After the night the boy had, he doubted he'd appreciate his insistence that for once he actually had someone he could trust not to leave him hanging. Instead he said, "I'm glad you came back though."

Rusty shrugged. "Still had your key, remember?"

Andy chuckled. "Good." He tilted his chin toward Rusty's papers and decided to change topics. "What's that?"

Rusty picked them up and lined up the edges by repeatedly tapping the ends against the table. "School forms," he explained. "You need them by tomorrow morning, right?"

Andy smiled, his smile's size carefully tamed even though he was suddenly bursting with joy at Rusty's decision to give the school a shot after all. "Yeah, I do," he said casually, reaching a hand out and wiggling his fingers in a beckoning motion. "You done with them?"

"Yes." Rusty heeded his silent request and gave him the papers.

"Great!" Andy leafed through the forms quickly, making sure Rusty had indeed filled out everything, then put them aside at the table. An awkward silence fell over them as he did so, and Rusty started fidgeting, clearly intent on retreating to his room, but Andy didn't feel like leaving the kid out of his sight just yet. So in an attempt to keep the kid's mind off the depressing evening, and to indulge the worrier in himself a little as well, he gestured at the chess set and asked, "Up for a game?"

Rusty's jaw dropped. "You know how to play chess?"

"Uhm," Andy started sarcastically, "yes, as a matter of fact I do."

"Right," Rusty drawled, obviously not believing him.

Andy moved the board closer to them, and picked off the white queen and king pieces. "For starters," Andy started pointedly, "I know these two pieces," clasping the pieces between his fingers he pointed them at Rusty in a curt movement, grinning a little as he did so, "go the other way around." With that he put them into their right places.

Rusty frowned and looked at the board in disbelief. His next words revealed he was more surprised by the fact he hadn't arranged the pieces correctly than by Andy's knowing what their places were supposed to be. "I was a bit distracted," he said defensively.

Andy chuckled, but said understandingly, "I know." He waved a hand over the board, where a couple of other pieces were incorrectly placed. "Can I trust you to fix this until I get rid of this?" he asked teasingly, gesturing at his work attire.

As hoped, it drew an actual chuckle out of Rusty. "Yes." A slightly mischievous spark appeared in his eyes and he added, "If I need help, I know where to find you."

Andy stood up, laughing. He hoped that statement went beyond setting up a chessboard. "Just in case," he patted a pocket on his suit jacket, "I've got my phone with me, too."

That earned Andy an eye roll, but he didn't mind. He doubted the kid's thoughts were far away from his mother, but if he could distract him for even a moment, he'd take it. "Be right back then," he said, and went to his bedroom.

He dug his keys out of his pocket, unclipped his cuffs and badge before placing them all on top of his nightstand. He then proceeded to place his gun inside of it, and rubbed a hand over his hip at the slight relief that always came with no longer having that familiar weight attached there, before fishing his phone out to dial Provenza. He slipped off his jacket as he did so, and was not surprised that his partner answered on the first ring.

"We don't have any news, Andy," Provenza said by way of greeting.

"I know, I have some," Andy countered, stretching his neck as his hand worked on loosening his tie. "Rusty's home."

"He is?" Provenza asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Andy got rid of his tie, and sat down on his bed. He pressed his phone between his ear and shoulder and started working on the buttons of his dress shirt sleeves, intent on rolling the sleeves up. "I got home, and he was just sitting there in my kitchen, filling out those forms for school."

"He okay?"

Done with his sleeves, Andy took proper hold of his phone and stood. "I don't think so," he admitted, "but at least he's safe."

"Okay," Provenza responded. "I'll let patrol know, the Captain, too."

Andy suddenly chuckled. He had forgotten that the Captain offered to stay at the PAB in case patrol brought Rusty to the murder room. "You survived the evening with the Captain?" He grinned to himself. "Did she torture you?"

To Andy's surprise, when Provenza replied, he did not sound irritated at all. If anything, he'd say he sounded a little contemplative. "No heads are rolling." There was a pause. "For now."

Andy chuckled again. "Alright, that's progress I guess." He started walking to his door. "Anyway, thanks, Provenza, and if you could thank the Captain for sticking around, too…"

"Yeah, yeah," Provenza waved him off, "just don't lose the kid again, okay?"

Andy scoffed. "Trust me, I don't intend to."

"See you tomorrow, Flynn."

"See ya," Andy answered and disconnected the phone.

When he reached Rusty in the dining room, Andy put the phone down on the table and resumed his earlier seat. He inspected the board, somewhat mockingly. "I see you've done it correctly this time." Rusty just shot him a bland look, so he proceeded to smugly ask, "Ready to get your ass kicked?"

"Bring it on, Andy," Rusty replied and eagerly moved the first pawn to start the game.

-TBC-

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A/N: As always, we would love to know what you all think. Please leave us a review!


	4. Chapter 4

_I apologize for the delay in posting this next chapter. I have been on vacation the last week and incorrectly assumed that I could get the chapter up before I left, or at the very least while I was away. Please forgive me. I would like to thank you all for your continued encouragement for this story through reviews, favorites and follows. It means so much! A big thanks to my partner for putting up with me and continuing to be my voice of reason. She's the absolute best._

 _~escapewithstories_

 _I am joining my partner in the apology. We will do our best to not keep you waiting this long again. So to keep you from waiting any longer, I'll just quickly say thank you for the crazy good comments that keep coming in, you've no idea how big a smile they put on my face, and let you get to reading our next chapter. escapewithstories kicked ass as always, so I'm sure you'll like at least her parts! ;)_

 _~IReadAndWriteSometimes_

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THE SAME, YET DIFFERENT - CHAPTER FOUR

Andy rolled his neck and arched his back to stretch out his shoulders in an attempt to release the tension that had slowly started building there when he got called in early that morning. His hopes of a relatively calm start to the day were squashed and the infuriating Mrs. Strauss was not helping his mood. The only thing preventing him from reaching out and plucking her phone away from her ear was the fact that he currently had his hands crammed into his pockets. If he could just get on with her interview, there could still be a chance for him to leave the scene a little early and continue with his original plans.

"Ma'am, Ma'am," he risked pulling his hands out of his pockets and held them out in a placating manner, "I still have a few questions I need to ask you. I don't think you understand."

"No, you don't understand." Surprisingly, Mrs. Strauss lowered her phone long enough to confront him. "Did anyone else here wake up to find their husband murdered?"

Thankfully, the Captain interrupted before Andy could formulate what would likely be a sarcastic response and he happily took a step back, allowing her to handle the uncooperative wife. Normally he would be a little on edge about her presence at a scene because they were all still adjusting to her command, but this time he gladly accepted it as he figured she would likely expedite the rest of the interview. He was in the middle of mentally calculating just how much time he had to get home and if he could still make the kid breakfast when the arrival of Agents Howard and Morris immediately brought his planning to a halt.

Andy groaned, the sound reverberating louder than he intended. He turned his back on the the small group, and took a few steps in the opposite direction for the volume of the discussion between Morris and the wife was continually increasing. "God, I was hoping we could wrap up here soon," he threw up his hands in defeat as he spoke to himself, "but of course the FBI has to show up and screw everything up!"

Provenza and Buzz had exited the house just in time to catch the last of Andy's grumblings.

"You have somewhere to be?" the former asked, his irritation evident not only by the annoyance in his tone, but in the way he was twisting at his white hat as though he was wringing water out of it.

Knowing it had nothing to do with him personally, but his partner's general annoyance with life at the moment, Andy chose to ignore his unpleasant mood. "It's Rusty's first day of school today." He sighed heavily in disappointment. "I was hoping I would get the chance to drop him off."

"The kid is 16," Provenza threw his hands out in exasperation, almost smacking Buzz in the face with his hat, "he doesn't need Daddy to hold his hand and walk him to the door." He jabbed his finger into the middle of Andy's chest. " _We_ need you to focus and do your damn job."

"Right, because you're not the least bit distracted yourself," Andy bit out as he swatted Provenza's hand away. "I know Rusty doesn't _need_ me there, but I still thought it would be nice if I was." Not wanting to further engage the old man or listen to his retort, he quickly turned to walk away and almost barreled over Sharon, not realizing that she had joined them. "Sorry, Captain."

"Everything okay, gentlemen?" Sharon asked with a lift of her brows.

"It's fine," Provenza snapped, clearly unconcerned with whom he was addressing, "Flynn's just got his panties in a wad."

"He's not the one with undergarment issues," Buzz mumbled not so quietly.

"Now, Captain," Provenza began with his finger poised in the air, but then he stopped and scowled when Buzz's comment finally registered. "Why don't you go film something!" he growled out over his shoulder. "Captain," he turned again to address his boss, although his tone had not improved, "Flynn has offered to go pick up coffees for everyone and meet us all back in the murder room."

"What?" Andy hollered out before catching the warning look from the Captain, and lowering his voice to a more appropriate level. "If you wanted coffee," he spoke through gritted teeth, you should've gotten it yourself."

Before the other Lieutenant could respond, Sharon stepped up between the two men and calmly addressed Andy. "If I remember correctly, Lieutenant," she ignored Provenza's huffs and sputters over being interrupted, "there's a wonderful coffee shop just around the corner from St. Joseph's." A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "It's on the way to the PAB."

Andy's eyes briefly widened in surprise, realizing she had been standing right behind him longer than he initially thought. "Right," he said with a nod of his head, he would be foolish to not take Sharon up on the opportunity she was giving him. "What can I get you from there, Captain?"

"Oh," it was now Sharon's turn to be surprised. She didn't expect that he would offer to pick her up something as well. "I've actually already had my coffee for the day, but thank you, Andy." She gave him a gracious smile, then politely excused herself to go intervene in the heated discussion still ongoing between Agent Morris and Mrs. Strauss.

The moment she turned away, Provenza immediately took the opportunity to jump in. "I would like a-"

"You're gonna like whatever I get you," Andy interrupted, then he turned and walked off, leaving Provenza standing with his jaw dropped. He knew what everyone on the team typically liked, and didn't bother wasting time by asking.

Thankfully, the crime scene wasn't too far from Andy's condo, and with him catching the lights just as they turned green, traffic had surprisingly worked in his favor. He glanced at his watch as he exited the elevator onto his floor, noting that minus the time it would take to drive to the school, they had an extra twenty minutes to spare. With any luck, he could catch Rusty before he ate his breakfast, allowing him to take the kid to the coffee shop and grab something there to eat.

"Thank you, Alvarez," Andy nodded to the officer standing outside his door, "but I got it from here."

The officer responded with his own curt nod and a quiet, "Have a good day, Sir."

Once Andy unlocked the front door and let it close behind him, he stood at the intersection of the two hallways and listened for sounds coming from either direction. Not hearing the TV, he decided that Rusty was most likely still in his room getting ready, and started the short trek down the hall towards his bedroom. As he approached the end of the hall, he noticed the light emanating from underneath the bathroom door, and once he was just outside the door he could finally hear the sounds of the water running.

"Dammit," he cursed under his breath. "Rusty," he shouted more loudly and pounded on the door, suspecting he most likely startled the kid.

His suspicions were confirmed when the sound of Rusty's aggrieved, "What is wrong with you?" carried through the closed door.

"Hurry it up!" Andy hit the door once more with the side of his fist. "You were supposed to be up over half an hour ago!"

"I still have plenty of time!" Rusty shot back, then there was a loud thump that Andy figured was most likely from him shutting the shower door once again.

Andy growled and pivoted on his heels, making his way towards the kitchen. His plans of taking the kid to the coffee shop were now also thrown out the window. In the kitchen, he began pulling down a glass and a bowl. Rusty still needed to eat and Andy decided he could speed up the process if he prepared it while the kid finished up his shower. He briefly debated between cereal or oatmeal, and ultimately decided that the latter had a better chance of keeping him full longer.

A grimace transformed his face when he pulled down the box of strawberries and cream oatmeal that Rusty had picked out during their grocery store trip a couple of days before. He had seemed almost excited when he had picked it out, leading Andy to believe it was one of the few things he had enjoyed growing up. He pulled out two packets before placing the box back in the pantry, and proceeded to mix the contents with some milk before placing the bowl in the microwave.

Rusty came trudging into the dining room, his shoes grasped in one hand, backpack hanging from the other, and there were droplets of water dripping from his hair onto his shoulders. "I thought you were at a crime scene?" he asked derisively as he plopped down into one of the chairs and began putting on his shoes.

"I was," Andy responded distractedly while he watched the timer on the microwave continue to count down. He had waited to start it until he heard Rusty walking down the hall. "I left early so I could be the one to take you to school on your first day."

Rusty scoffed, "I've actually done this before," he tied the laces of his shoe with rough, jerky movements, "I don't need you to coddle me the whole way." He heavily dropped his foot on the ground with a thunk, then sunk back in the chair and stared at Andy with a look of annoyance.

"Considering you were supposed to be showered and dressed long before now," Andy removed the bowl of oatmeal from the microwave when it dinged, "I'm not sure that's true." He carried the bowl and a glass of juice over to the table and set them on the table next to Rusty. "If I need to, I will ask the officers to wait inside instead of out so someone can make sure you are awake on time." He braced his hands on his hips. "Do I need to start doing that?"

"No!" Rusty glared at Andy and yanked on the bowl so it was sitting directly in front him.

"Alright then," Andy said with a satisfied smirk. "You have five minutes to eat before we need to be out the door."

Rusty lifted the spoon straight up and watched as pieces of oatmeal dripped off the end. "You put too much milk in it!" He dropped the spoon back in the bowl, then angrily mixed it around.

Andy rolled his eyes, he had measured it out exactly like the instructions said. "Be ready on time and you can make your own breakfast," he responded with a shrug, dismissing Rusty's complaints.

They had managed to make it out of the condo within eight minutes, instead of the five that Andy had designated. The kid had drug his feet, no doubt in defiance of Andy's constant prodding for him to hurry. The first few minutes of the drive had been silent between them, and Andy could sense Rusty's mood slowly changing from irritated to anxious.

"Why am I going to this school?" From where it was resting back on the seat, Rusty rolled his head to look at Andy. "I'm not even catholic."

"Because Tao said some things about private schools that kind of made sense," Andy said distractedly as he arrived at a stop sign and looked both ways before turning, "then the Captain suggested St. Joseph's. Besides," he physically waved off Rusty's concern, "nowhere on those forms did it say being a catholic is a requirement."

"Okay," Rusty lightly yanked on his seatbelt, relieving the constricting pressure from his chest and neck, "but what am I supposed to tell people about myself?"

A perplexed expression crossed Andy's features, unsure of where the kid's sudden uncertainty was coming from. He shot a cursory glance towards the passenger seat and shrugged. "Whatever you want."

"Hi, my name is Rusty." He held out his hand and mimed shaking hands with someone. "I witnessed a serial rapist-slash-murderer trying to bury one of his victims," he spoke rapidly, feigning an upbeat, pleasant tone, "and now my entire life revolves around my future testimony that I'm practically being forced to give at a trial on some unknown date in the distant future."

"Ha. Ha," Andy responded dryly. "I'm amending my earlier statement." His grip on the steering wheel tightened; the drive was not going like he had hoped. "Do _not_ say whatever you want. You should actually avoid all topics regarding that dirtbag Stroh and the impending trial _completely_ ," he emphasized the last word by making a chopping motion through the air with his hand. "Maybe you should just ignore everyone like you usually do," a little more quietly he added on a mumble, "you're so good at it. Better yet," his voice returned to normal pitch again and he pointed a finger at Rusty even though his eyes remained on the road, "you should try just listening to someone else for once."

"Right," Rusty rolled his eyes, propping his elbow on the door, and dropped his head into his hand, "because saying nothing will go over just as well as my status as a witness."

"Oh, God," Andy groaned, suddenly remembering just how 'nice' and 'helpful' some people could be to the new kid. "If anyone gives you any crap, just tell one of the teachers or one of the priests."

Rusty's face screwed up in repulsion at Andy's words. "I thought you were supposed to confess your sins to a priest, not tattle on your peers, because _that_ ," the sarcasm in his tone was more exaggerated than usual, "is even worse than your 'say nothing' suggestion."

"Just don't try and take care of it yourself, because that," Andy's eyes narrowed and he parroted Rusty's words back at him, "would actually be worse."

Rusty scoffed. "You're telling me when you were my age a _billion_ years ago," he looked over at Andy with a smug expression, "you just sat back and did nothing when people were assholes?" He ended his question with a knowing raise of his brow.

"No," Andy lingered on the word for a few beats, "but speaking from my _years_ ," he shot Rusty a bland look, "of experience, it doesn't always go as well as planned." He pulled up in front of the school, momentarily surprised that there weren't more cars dropping other students off before his attention was drawn back to the kid.

Rusty looked out the window at the large building with a forlorn expression. "Nothing ever goes as planned," he muttered to himself, but Andy was still able to hear.

Andy sighed as he put the car into park. He wanted to say something comforting to the kid, but figured it would fall on deaf ears, so he opted to simply say, "Just try to have a good day and stay out of trouble." He reached out and gave Rusty's shoulder a light pat.

Rusty scowled and sarcastically responded with, "Sure thing." He flung open the door open and scrambled out of the car. He gave Andy one last withering look as he shouldered his backpack, then shut the door with more force than necessary.

Andy groaned and dropped his head back on the headrest. This day really wasn't going as planned and he was now in desperate need of the coffee he had been volunteered to pick up.

When Andy returned to work, his thoughts never strayed far from Rusty. He kept his fingers crossed that despite the kid's pessimistic attitude that morning, he would still have a good first day of school. He believed his Captain when she said it was a good school, and his subsequent research only further corroborated that, so he kept on being optimistic that it would all turn out for the best. So long as Rusty put at least some effort into his day.

Andy's day otherwise was riddled with annoyances. It was hard to decide what was getting on his nerves more that day–that life guru guy, the FBI, or his partner who was acting crankier than usual. When he then found Rusty leaning against his desk with a priest next to him, his earlier optimistic view was instantly quashed and he made his peace with the fact that his day would not be getting any better.

"Hello, Father," Andy told the priest politely when he reached them, intent to ask what brought the two to the PAB, but when his eyes landed properly on Rusty, completely forgetting he was standing in front of a man of the cloth, he exclaimed, "What the hell happened?" He took a step closer to Rusty to inspect his dirty clothing and face, then proceeded to shoot a few more questions at him in rapid succession, "Who did this to you? Did you have a nurse take a look at you?" He couldn't tell if his face was bruised or just covered in dirt. "Are you in pain?"

"I'm fine," Rusty mumbled, only momentarily meeting his inspecting eyes. His hands tightened their hold on his backpack straps and he shifted on the spot. "Not a scratch on me."

"Lieutenant Flynn," the priest straightened a little, drawing Andy's attention to him again, "do you have somewhere more private we could talk?" he asked, looking around and glancing at Provenza and Sharon who had just entered the murder room.

Andy caught their eye, and after they took notice of his company, they certainly looked intrigued, but both quietly nodded, as if to tell him not to worry and to go deal with it. "Of course," Andy responded, giving his Captain a questioning glance and hooking a thumb in the direction of her office, or to be more precise her conference room. She closed her eyes and slowly nodded her permission, so Andy opened her office door and made a swooping gesture indicating for the two to follow. "This way, please."

Once he showed them into the conference room and had them take a seat behind the large conference table, Andy pulled out a chair opposite of them. "What happened?" he asked, watching Rusty in both concern and curiosity.

"Well," slightly unimpressed, the priest eyed his student, "Rusty here got into a fight at school today."

Andy's eyes widened in shock. "You what?" he asked Rusty.

Rusty only managed to swallow before the priest went on. "And as if that wasn't enough, he had started his day by introducing himself to his fellow classmates," he shot Rusty another unimpressed look, "with lies," the priest looked at Andy again, "which goes against what is at the very core of St. Joseph's honor code," he waited a beat before clarifying on a nod, "honesty."

Andy's brow furrowed at that. Dishonesty or lying hadn't really been an issue that had come up with Rusty by then. "What kind of lies?"

With no small amount of annoyance, Rusty replied. "They asked me what I did over summer vacation. I said I was involved in catching a serial killer and that I would be a material witness in his murder trial." He ended his fast paced response with a curt nod of his head.

When at that, the priest made a gesture that sounded like an incredulous, 'See?' Andy almost barked out a laugh. Instead though, he rubbed a finger over his eyebrow, and slightly exasperated said, "Rusty, I thought we had an agreement that you'd keep that to yourself."

Rusty just shrugged. "So if I actually _had_ lied I _wouldn't_ be in trouble?" he asked, giving the priest an indignant look.

The priest, however, frowned and looked at Rusty, surprised. "He was telling the truth?" he asked Andy.

Andy nodded. "I'm afraid so, Father." He wanted to smack Rusty over the back of his head when he smugly raised an eyebrow at the priest, silently saying 'I told you so.' He had still gotten into a fight, and no matter what the reason, he doubted the school would let go of it easily. Deciding to find out a little more before the Father offered his inevitable verdict, he quickly asked, "Did you start this fight, Rusty?"

"No," Rusty said firmly, and Andy let out a sigh of relief, but then Rusty shot the priest a smug look and added, "But I finished it. Just like I'll finish the next one and the one after that."

The priest ignored Rusty. "Lieutenant, our school has zero tolerance for fighting."

He had more to say, but Rusty raised in his seat and interjected. "Well, I have zero tolerance for getting hit in the face!"

The priest continued to ignore Rusty. "Lieutenant," he said calmly, succeeding in prying Andy's glare away from his foster son, "when you approached us about accepting Rusty as a student, we've raised some concerns." He glanced at Rusty. "Concerns that, on Captain Raydor's request _and_ assurances," the man tilted his head to the side pointedly, "we have agreed to overlook. But clearly," the priest shrugged in apparent resignation, "Rusty isn't a good fit for our school."

Not appreciating at all where this was going, Andy shook his head and leaned over the table a little, pressing his fingers against the tabletop. "Let me just see if I'm understanding this right." The crease on his brow deepened as he thought over everything that had apparently transpired. "Rusty's new classmates asked him what he did over the summer," he paused and tapped his fingers once over the table, waiting for the priest to nod, "Rusty told the truth," he tapped his fingers again, "got assaulted, so he defended himself, and now," he paused again, tapping his fingers one last time, "you're telling me you want to _expel_ him?" He didn't wait for the priest's answer but, his temper steadily rising, ploughed on with his next question. "May I know what you plan to do with the kid that attacked him?" Suggesting to kick him completely out of Church briefly crossed his mind, but he refrained from being quite so sarcastic.

"It was three boys," Andy's eyes went wide at the number, "and they _will_ be properly punished," the priest paused, looking at Rusty again, "after they get out of the infirmary."

Rusty grinned at that, but Andy quickly erased the look from his face by asking, "You put three boys in the infirmary?" He sounded in equal measure horrified and impressed. Rusty couldn't even nod, much less offer another response, before Andy returned to the priest with another burning question. He would deal with Rusty later. "So, are you expelling those boys, too?"

The look on the priest's face gave him his answer even before he opened his mouth, which only continued to fuel Andy's rising temper. "Consider my position, Lieutenant," he said almost pleadingly.

"Oh, I am," Andy let out menacingly. "I am considering your position if I brought this to the school board." He pretended to actually think about it himself and shrugged before going on. "What would they have to say about three kids ganging up on another? The victim," his eyes flickered to Rusty in a way that let the boy know he thought of him as anything but in that moment, "a foster child at that, gets expelled, and," his earlier frown transformed into a scowl, "the other three get away with a slap on the wrist?" Forcing his body to relax, he folded his arms loosely across his chest and leaned back in his chair before landing the final blow. "Perhaps reaching out to the boys' parents might be a good idea, too." Matter-of-factly, he added, "What were their names again?"

The priest at least had the decency to gulp down a lump before replying, albeit ignoring Andy's questions. "I am concerned with the safety of my other students," he said defensively.

It was the word 'other' that rubbed Andy the wrong way and had him give the priest the lay of the land a bit more bluntly. He unfolded his arms and sat up a little straighter again. "The way I see it, this is textbook self-defense, Father." He waved a hand at Rusty. "Not one, but three," he put up three fingers as he reiterated his earlier point, "of his classmates attacked Rusty without cause, and he was forced to defend himself. How exactly does that get him expelled?" The question was merely rhetorical and he went on quickly. "Now, don't get me wrong," Andy made a placating gesture at the priest, "I appreciate you meeting me halfway and accepting Rusty into your school despite the circumstances, but," he leaned forward again, just enough to seem a little intimidating, "I remember Catholic school a little more differently than that, Father."

The priest retreated further back into his chair. "I understand, Lieutenant, but-"

Andy was in no mood for 'buts', so he cut him off before he had to hear them. "I don't see the issue here. Unless your goal is to confuse your students by teaching them one thing at school and showing them something entirely opposite in real life," he relaxed into the back of his chair again, making it clear he was about to close this discussion, "I think it's pretty obvious what needs to be done here."

The priest considered him for a moment, then finally said, "I see this is non-negotiable for you."

"Very," Andy confirmed on a curt nod. "But if we can't come to an agreement here, I am more than happy to let a judge make the obvious decision for you."

The priest suddenly squared his shoulders, his eyes momentarily going wide. Defensively, he pointed out, "Rusty put them all in the infirmary."

"I have seen self-defense cases with a much worse outcome, Father," Andy replied, the knowing raise of his eyebrow making it clear what exact and rather conclusive outcome he was referring to.

The priest had no arguments against that. He merely nodded in understanding, then stood up, making Andy follow suit. "I will consult with the faculty then," he said, already turning toward the door.

That wasn't good enough of an answer for Andy. "If my foster son isn't reinstated for school by tomorrow," he said slowly, making the priest stop and look at him again, "I am ready to use other means, Father." He didn't want to. Especially since the Captain's kids had gone to this school, but if pointing out their hypocrisy was what it took, for Rusty's sake, he would do it. "Surely you don't want me to look into any past, similar incidents?" he added on a warning tilt of his head. Under different circumstances he would have thought twice before being quite this verbal with his threats, but the effort it took to get Rusty into this school combined with his current frustration with the kid, and his usual fairly loose hold on his temper made that impossible.

The priest pursed his lips in obvious disdain, but ultimately nodded. "I assure you, Rusty will not be expelled, Lieutenant."

"Good," Andy said curtly.

At that the priest offered him a forced, polite smile and nodded before bidding them both goodbye and exiting the room.

Andy watched the priest as he left Sharon's office and started walking out of the murder room. For a moment he let relief wash over him now that he had managed to save Rusty's seat in the school. It was Rusty who snapped him out of it though, when he excitedly exclaimed, "Oh, my God, Andy, that was awesome!"

Just like that, Andy's temper flared up again, and he realized he was no longer at all impressed by Rusty's apparent physical prowess. He braced himself against the top of the table and leaned down at Rusty to finally direct some of his ire at him. "Oh, don't you _dare_ gloat!" he let out lowly. "You put three boys in the infirmary!"

"What?" Rusty's excitement was quickly replaced with incredulity and defensiveness. "I was only defending myself!" He pointed a finger at himself. "They attacked _me_!"

"That does not," Andy bit out through gritted teeth as he tapped a couple of fingertips against the table, "justify you hitting them back so hard it landed them in the infirmary, and you know it!"

"But-" Rusty tried.

"Don't you 'but' me," Andy warned, straightening and pointing a finger at him. "My Captain," he threw an arm out in the direction of the murder room, "put in a good word for you, just to get you into that school, and this is how you repay her? You final-"

"Oh, like you care about your Captain!" Rusty shot back, cutting Andy off on an eye roll.

"That is beside the point," Andy retorted, not bothering to explain to Rusty that he had already decided the Captain wasn't as bad as he thought she'd be. "The point is, when somebody shows you some kindness, like the Captain, and I," he poked a thumb into his own chest, "have, for that matter, the least you can do is show some respect."

Rusty looked taken aback. "Respect?" he repeated, puzzled.

"Yes, respect," Andy confirmed simply and sat down again, "and gratitude. You should be thanking her for helping you out here, not spitting in her face by behaving like this!" He punctuated his last word with a wild wave of his hand. When Rusty swallowed and leaned back in his chair, Andy made a conscious effort to calm down. His voice softened a little, returned to a lower pitch, and he added more gently, "Rusty, this school is an amazing opportunity for you. Wh-"

"Oh, like I will stay at that school long enough for it to matter," Rusty interrupted on a scoff. "You can stop trying to sell me that crap, I am still not buying it."

Andy pointed a finger at him again, not allowing him to add anything more, but commotion in the murder room momentarily drew his attention to the window, and he realized Ilya Blum was on his way, so he decided to table this discussion. He was probably too agitated to handle it properly now anyway, had mishandled it so far, too. He abruptly stood. "I gotta get back to work now. We'll continue this later," he informed Rusty, briefly switching gears. "You will go to the break room and wait for me until I'm done, am I clear?"

"Will you send a babysitter with me, too?" Rusty asked sarcastically.

Andy narrowed his eyes at him. "No," he said at length, "but you know what," he looked toward the murder room again, "on your way, how about you stop by Provenza's desk?"

Rusty frowned in confusion. "Why?"

Andy suppressed a smirk, knowing, but not caring that he would be agitating Rusty further. "I think he has this book called 'Manners For Dummies'. I think it'd do you good to read it once," he paused for effect, "or twice. Give you some food for thought while you wait for me here."

Yes, it definitely riled Rusty up some more. In a couple of jerked movements, he bent down in his chair and grabbed his knapsack. When he then took to his feet, he bit out, "Fine!" before making a hasty retreat out of Sharon's conference room, throwing the backpack over a shoulder on his way.

Andy winced when Rusty slammed the door shut. He knew he should have handled this better, but the kid could be infuriating. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He hoped it would go better once they both had some time to cool off.

A knock on the conference room window brought him back to reality and he found his partner looking at him impatiently. "I'm coming, I'm coming," he muttered, annoyed, and made his way to the murder room.

Rusty had not been in the break room long 'chewing on his food for thought' when Andy had poked his head inside, informing him a uniform would be taking him home instead due to an unexpected stakeout with the FBI. In that short time, he had decided that even though Andy had stood up for him and all but guaranteed his continued enrollment, he wasn't going back to that school. Ever. He knew when he was unwelcome, and he didn't make a habit of sticking around when that was the case.

Several hours had passed since he had come to that conclusion, and now he was sitting at the kitchen table, working through what little homework he had from the first day. The majority of his evening was spent lounging on the couch and watching TV, unsuccessfully trying to ignore his foster dad's comments about 'respect' and throwing away 'amazing opportunities'. Despite his best efforts, his mind continually drifted back to their heated conversation earlier that afternoon.

If he was being honest with himself, Rusty would have to admit that he did intentionally discuss the trial in hopes of getting a reaction, and when it was successful, he did do more than necessary to defend himself against his three classmates. Listening to everyone talk about how great their summers had been with their families evoked an unexpected feeling of anger in him. He hated feeling like he didn't belong, and it was proving to be a common occurrence in his life lately.

Except the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Andy had not once made him feel unwelcome. In fact, he seemed to go out of his way to try and make things easier for him, even though there were no apparent benefits to be earned by doing so. It was completely different and unprecedented compared to his previous experiences with other men. As far as he could remember, every man he had come across in his life always had an ulterior motive. Andy was the first man he had encountered that wasn't associated with his mom or survival on the streets, whose actions seemed to be completely altruistic—at least so far.

Rusty began reflecting back on the short time he had been living with Andy, and it became clearer and clearer that despite all of his complaints and objections to the situation, it really hadn't been all that bad. He had his own bedroom and the kitchen was now stocked with food that he liked. Even though it turned out to be a huge disappointment, Andy had kept his promise to find his mom, and was genuinely sorry when she didn't show up. Then there was this afternoon when Andy stood up to the priest because the man was trying to get rid of him, just like every other adult in his life. Rusty couldn't remember when someone had fought for him the way his foster dad did because it was the right thing to do.

Despite all of his positive realizations about living with Andy, Rusty couldn't shake off the feeling that it was all too good to be true, and therefore he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He couldn't help but feel that his judgement of his foster dad was likely clouded considering this was the first time he had ever been in this situation. However, in the meantime and until given reason to believe otherwise, he decided that Andy was right— it wouldn't hurt to show him a little respect in return and it would be wise to take advantage of an opportunity that was being so unselfishly provided for him.

Rusty was still forming a plan in his mind when his thoughts were interrupted by the opening and closing of the front door, followed by heavy footsteps walking down the hall. He watched as Andy appeared at the entrance of the hallway and headed straight towards the kitchen, not even sparing him a cursory glance or 'hello' along the way. He waited until Andy had retrieved a glass and filled it with water from the fridge before finally addressing him.

"So," Rusty slowly began, "are you just going to ignore me now?" He tapped the eraser end of his pencil against his open notebook. "I thought we still had things to discuss."

Andy let out a deep sigh that almost turned into a groan. He had said they would finish their discussion later, and it was definitely later. "Honestly, Kid," he took a big gulp of his water and leaned back against the island that was behind him, "between you, the priest, Provenza," his tone became a little edgier, conveying further irritation, "and a life guru that thinks he knows everything about my life," he finally turned to look at Rusty, giving him a pained smirk, "I'm a little talked out today." His gaze turned straightforward again. "I'm also not in the mood for one of our usual disagreements where you lash out with disrespectful remarks because you're unwilling to accept help when it's being offered."

"Oh," Rusty said quietly and sheepishly ducked his head, knowing he deserved that response. The silence lingered heavily between them until he finally mustered up the nerve to address the older man again. "I've actually been thinking a lot about what you said earlier today."

Andy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Apparently, there was more talking to do whether he wanted to or not. He slowly made his way over to the dining table, and took a seat across from Rusty. "Yea, and?" He tried not to let his irritation seep into his voice, and was surprisingly pretty successful.

"I can be more civil," Rusty waved his pencil around the air while he spoke, "and I'm willing to do this school thing, even though I'm not welcome," he paused and gave Andy a pointed look, "but I need something from you in return."

Andy almost rolled his eyes, unable to imagine what else the kid could want from him. Instead, he stared passively back at him. "Okay," he drew out the word, indicating for Rusty to continue.

"I need you to promise to give me a heads up when it's time for me to be gone."

Andy's brows drew together in confusion, unsure of what the kid was saying exactly. "You mean like an eviction notice?" he asked a bit incredulously and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Yea," Rusty slowly nodded, "pretty much like that."

Andy sat up straighter and tapped twice on the table with his knuckles. "Rusty-"

"Look," Rusty interrupted, "we both know that at some point I'm gonna have to leave here and start over again." He shrugged one shoulder. "I would just like at least a 30 day notice before that happens."

The kid was right, there would come a time when he would move on, but at this point, Andy didn't think it would be him making that decision. He figured Rusty probably wasn't prepared for such promises, so the least he could do was agree to the simple request. Sliding his glass to the side, he leaned forward and folded his arms to rest them on the table. His gaze unwavering as he stared back at Rusty and responded, "I can do that."

"Okay." Rusty plopped back into the chair, almost in relief. He was quiet for just a few seconds when part of Andy's comment completely registered in his mind. "Did you say something about a life guru?" he asked with an expression of amused confusion.

Andy groaned. "Yea, he's Provenza's new best friend, and just like Provenza," he rolled his eyes, "he thinks he knows everything."

Rusty didn't know the old man too well except for what Andy had said about him, and from his observations in the murder room, but that surprised him. "Provenza doesn't strike me as the type to buy into all that spiritual guidance crap," he commented, a small amount of disbelief evident in his tone.

"Yea, well," Andy scoffed and scrubbed a hand over his face, "he's going through a late-life crisis, so he's more vulnerable to deception at the moment." He scooted to the edge of his seat, his exhaustion seemed to suddenly dissipate. "Guru gets a couple of lucky guesses right about me, and now Provenza thinks he's spouting the gospel." He threw his arms out in irritation, and thinking back to his earlier encounter with his partner, exclaimed, "It's all a bunch of bullshit!"

" _So, how much did he charge you?"_

 _Provenza's head whipped around to locate the source of the amused sounding question. When his eyes landed on his partner with his arms crossed and a shoulder leaning against the wall, he frowned and made his way past him. "Did you follow me just to pester me, Flynn?"_

 _Provenza did not need to look at his partner to know he was sporting a smirk on his face. "Maybe," Andy almost sing-songed and pushed off the wall to follow him._

 _Provenza merely scoffed in reply._

" _Seriously," Andy asked with a genuine touch of both wonder and concern, "what's up with you?" His partner was more brooding than usual, but it was his strange tolerance of Thorn, and even interest in him, that compelled him to ask._

 _Provenza looked to the side to find Andy giving him a worried look. "Nothing's up with me," he grumbled back._

" _Oh, sure," Andy drawled sarcastically._

" _What's that supposed to mean?" Provenza asked, coming to a stop to glare at the back of his partner's head._

 _Andy came to a halt as well, and shrugged as he turned around to face him. "You let Thorn sit at your desk," he said matter-of-factly._

 _Provenza rolled his eyes and looked heavenward before barreling past him again. "He's not the first one to sit behind that desk, Flynn," he waved a hand through the air, "so I don't know what you're talking about."_

 _Andy picked up his pace to catch up with him. Once he did, he leaned forward and gave Provenza a sideways look. "No, really, Provenza, what's going on?" He pointed a hand in the direction of the murder room. "Is this still about the Captain?"_

 _That had Provenza throw both his arms out, and Andy flinched to the side to avoid getting hit by one of them. "Of course it's about the Captain!" Provenza stopped and pinned Andy with a look that stopped him, too. "I've never considered retirement before, but suddenly she waltzes into this place, and," his voice turned almost hushed, as if he were letting Andy in on a terrible secret, "that's all I_ can _think about."_

" _You_ wanna _retire?" Andy asked, his concern now actually growing._

 _Provenza scowled at him. "Of course I don't_ want _to retire!" He sounded exasperated._

 _The sentence his partner had been repeating several times over the past few weeks made Andy chuckle and relax. "Then what's the problem?" He shrugged. "As far as I know, the Captain doesn't want you to retire either."_

 _Provenza opened his mouth for an instant retort, but none came. He snapped his mouth shut, and only finally replied when Andy raised a challenging eyebrow at him. "Change," he barked. "Why did everything have to change around here?" he added in defeat._

 _Andy's brow drew together in puzzlement. "Is that what you and your buddy Thorn were discussing?"_

" _He's not my buddy," Provenza retorted, resuming his walk again._

" _Sure, Mr. How-Much-Would-A-15-Minute-Consult-Cost," Andy replied, falling into step with him._

 _Provenza pointed a finger at him warningly. "You know," he paused a beat, "he did get a good read on you." His tone of voice indicated that perhaps they shouldn't wave off Thorn's insights quite so easily._

 _Andy frowned. "Because I'm the first cop to hide in a bottle and ruin his and his family's lives?" he asked sarcastically, but there was a slightly unnerved undertone to his question. It really had been an eerily accurate assessment of him._

" _So you don't think your family hasn't forgiven you yet?" Provenza asked knowingly._

" _So what if I do?" Andy's voice raised in pitch as he suddenly went on the defensive. "Just because the moron made a lucky guess, doesn't mean he knows how to fix any of it!"_

" _Ah-uh," Provenza said sarcastically, slowing his pace as they reached the murder room._

 _It was an obvious and purposeful attempt at riling his partner up, and Andy walked straight into the trap, growing more agitated. His next words became coupled with the wild gesticulating of his hands. "Thorn doesn't know a thing about me or my family," he said resolutely. "Or you," he added, waving a hand at Provenza. "So how about you stop wasting your time on what a scam artist like him has to say, and instead just put a little effort into adapting to this_ God awful change _, huh?" The words were highlighted by air quotations marks. They finally stepped into the murder room and found the team seated behind their desks, so they parted ways and started for their own ones. "Maybe you gotta change a little here, too!"_

 _That made Provenza stop dead in his tracks and turn slowly around to face his partner again. "That's what_ he _said!"_

 _Andy turned around, incredulous that he was actually buying Thorn's brand of crap. "Because it doesn't take a goddamn genius to figure out you're being a stubborn ass, Provenza!"_

 _Provenza humphed in answer and finally reached his desk._

 _Watching the two Lieutenants flop into their chairs in clear annoyance, Julio chuckled. He turned slightly toward Mike and in a hushed voice that was deliberately loud enough to further annoy his two superior officers, said, "Uh-oh, the parents are fighting again."_

 _Mike barked out, "Ha!" getting the rest of the team to join in on the laughter._

" _Don't," both Andy and Provenza barked back, but the fact that both also raised their index fingers in warning only made the team laugh harder._

 _Growing a bit more serious, Mike propped his chin on his hand and looked between his two bickering colleagues. "What are you fighting about anyway?"_

 _The two glared at each other, but Andy answered, slightly amused. "Provenza's going through a late-life crisis." He smirked when it drew a few more chuckles out of the team._

" _Ah," Mike let out knowingly, "still seeking advice from Mister Thorn, Lieutenant?" he asked Provenza._

 _Buzz chuckled. Not waiting for his answer, he proceeded to ask, "Finished your session from earlier?"_

" _Earlier?" Andy straightened in his seat and shot Buzz a puzzled look before turning toward his partner. "You didn't actually_ pay _him for a consult?" he asked incredulously._

 _Provenza rolled his eyes and turned in his chair, away from Andy. "Oh, of course I didn't," he grumbled, waving him off._

 _Buzz smirked. "True," he looked at Andy and hooked a finger in Provenza's direction, "he just let himself get interrogated by Thorn a few hours ago."_

 _Andy suddenly started laughing. "You know what, Provenza," he grasped the edges of his desk and turned his chair towards his computer screen, "maybe it_ is _time for you to retire."_

 _Provenza just scowled at him. The team looked ready to burst out laughing again, but when he shot them a look of warning, too, they quickly pulled themselves together and pretended to return to their paperwork. "Another reason I should be in that office," he mumbled to himself as he opened his own folder of paperwork. "I wouldn't have to put up with this."_

 _Being the only one still daring to poke at Provenza, Andy chuckled, but kept his gaze on his computer. "You keep telling yourself that, old man," he mumbled back._

Rusty bit down on his lip, trying not to laugh at Andy getting so worked up. "Sounds like he struck a nerve." He coughed, trying to disguise the small chuckle that slipped out at the end.

"What?" Andy's voice was pitched higher than usual. He shook his head emphatically. "No." The shaking of his head began to slow. "Well," his lips thinned into a straight line, "maybe."

Now Rusty was really curious what the guy said that set Andy off. He closed the notebook in front of him, and as nonchalantly as possible asked, "What did he say about you?"

"Not much." Andy rubbed the back of his neck and laughed dryly. "Just something about me screwing up my kids' lives even though they say they forgive me."

"Oh," Rusty said, hoping his surprise wasn't too obvious. Andy hadn't said much about his kids, but from what little he had mentioned, it was pretty obvious things weren't great between them, and it had to do with him being an alcoholic. It was one of the reasons Rusty didn't completely trust him yet. "You don't think they've forgiven you?"

"They say they do," Andy shrugged, "but their actions and some other things they've said make me believe otherwise." He looked just over Rusty's shoulders and a crease formed across his forehead, as though he was remembering something unpleasant. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. "Anyways," he made a sweeping motion with his hand, physically brushing away the topic, "it's nothing for you to worry about."

Rusty wanted to ask more, but decided to give Andy the same courtesy he always gave, and didn't push. "Do you think Provenza will come to his senses?" He began packing his school things in his backpack.

"Eventually." Andy chuckled. "He usually does." As he watched Rusty clear his things off the table, he was reminded of something he had been wanting to broach with the kid, but considering how well it did not go the first time, he had been hesitant. "Would you like a desk for your room?"

"I don't mind working at the dining table." He was snapping the buckles in place when he suddenly stopped and looked over at Andy cautiously. "Unless you don't want me to do my homework here."

"No," Andy was quick to say. "That's not it at all." The sincerity in his tone left no doubt that it was true. "I was just thinking again about how sparsely decorated that room is," he rubbed the tip of his chin with his fingers, "and I thought you might want to get a few things, you know," he smiled, slightly nervous, "to really make it your own."

"Oh." Rusty was at a loss for words. Andy had been referring to it as his room since he started sleeping in it, but he really never thought about it being truly his; it was just another place to sleep. He remembered Andy saying he didn't mind decorating it, but Rusty thought that was just to appease Cynthia during the home visit. Now it appeared that Andy's offer was genuine. "I think," he began hesitantly, still uncertain if he should agree, "that would be cool."

"Okay, it's settled then," Andy said with finality as he stood and gathered his glass from the table. "We will go this weekend and look for some stuff." He emptied the remainder of the water out in the sink, then put the glass in the dishwasher. "I'm calling it a night." He gave Rusty a half-hearted wave over his shoulder and headed toward his room. "See you in the morning, Kid."

"Ummm, goodnight," Rusty called after him.

He sat at the table for a little while longer, still stunned by how the conversation ended. Normally when someone offered some form of a gift, he was required to return the favor somehow. It really took him by surprise that Andy didn't seem to be expecting anything. Rusty slowly rose from his chair, still thinking about everything that had transpired not only over the last few minutes, but over the last couple of weeks. Maybe it was possible that things weren't going to be as bad as he originally thought. He made sure to turn out all of the lights, then he made his way down the hall to _his_ room.

-TBC-

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A/N: As always, we would love to know what you guys thought of this chapter. Please leave a review!


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you all for your continued support. Reading each and every review that has come in has been a delight. Makes our day each time!

In fact, your amazing response to our story had us thinking a lot lately. Duff's latest interviews have added to our thoughts as well, and we've decided to continue this story post-season 1 after all. Just seeing how much you enjoy this makes it impossible to stop after only one season, not to mention all those hundred of pages of notes that would go to waste (XD), and frankly, considering all the stunts Duff has pulled lately, we are kinda resolved to continue writing just to spite him, and in an attempt to show him how it could have been done without destroying what was at the core of the show.

That being said, we also wanna address those of you who have started asking about Shandy. We plan on sticking as close to canon as we possibly can, and that means our favorite couple will not start to officially date before season 4 in this version either. This is primarily a fathership story, and we intend to keep it that way, however, as some of you have cleverly surmised, we are setting the story up for some Shandy down the road without taking away from the fathership story. Another thing we are setting the story up for is a different take on the relationship between Rusty and Sharon. Considering Rusty's witness status and Sharon being the lead investigator on his case, we think it will be only natural for them to form a relationship and that is something we have already started exploring and are most certainly looking forward to exploring even more, especially once Sharon and Andy become an item (and perhaps even a little sooner than that).

And lastly, there was a guest wondering whether we indeed split up single scenes between us or not. We are indeed splitting up different scenes within a single chapter. It has actually been harder to assign scenes to one another than to write them and once we started writing, the ease with which we worked off each other's scenes has been, for lack of a better word, creepy. Plenty of times we have actually managed to play with the same detail in separate scenes without ever discussing said detail, and in the end it would be like a connecting piece between the two scenes. Sometimes, we actually even just picked up in the middle of one another's scene and simply (creepily) continued the other's train of thought.

This concludes our ridiculously long note, but we just wanted to make sure we addressed your many questions, especially since a lot of them have been posed by guests whom we cannot directly message.

Now to continue with something that is also ridiculously long-our longest chapter (yet?). So far, we've had the most fun writing this chapter, and it is also both of our favorite chapter. Fingers crossed you enjoyed it at least half as much as we have writing it!

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THE SAME, YET DIFFERENT - CHAPTER FIVE

Still not fully awake, Rusty stumbled his way down the halls towards the kitchen, and even though it was mid-morning, he was hoping to find the usual pot of coffee that Andy typically made when he got up. Knowing that it was the first morning he would get to actually sleep in since starting school, he had stayed up much later than usual just simply watching TV and playing chess online. Not to mention, he had quite the eventful day leading up to his late night.

As promised, Andy had taken him shopping the day before to find some things to decorate his room, and he had found a desk and a bookcase that he liked. Afterwards, Andy had surprised him by taking him by the Apple Store to get him his own phone. The day had turned out to be quite the adventure, but it was probably the most normal day Rusty could recall having in a really long time. Despite Andy assuring him it wasn't necessary, Rusty decided he was going to find a way to repay Andy for everything, he just wasn't exactly sure how at the moment. One thing was for certain, he was learning a lot about his foster dad and quickly realizing living with him really wasn't all that bad.

Arriving in the kitchen, he did indeed find a warm pot of coffee, and even though there was probably barely enough for one glass, he still managed a half-hearted fist pump in his semi-conscious state. Once he had his mug filled and the desired amount of cream and sugar added, he leaned back against the counter, taking that first throat warming sip. He closed his eyes and managed a small smile. Besides it being far better quality than the cheap gas station coffee he was used to, he had to admit that Andy could brew one of the best pots.

He took one more sip, then glanced around to see if there was a note left for him, telling him where Andy was. He frowned when he didn't find one. It was unusual for there not to be one if Andy wasn't in the kitchen or watching television in the living room. Pulling his new phone out of his pajama pants pocket, his frown deepened when he again noted he had no new messages. Figuring that the older man must've retreated back to his bedroom, Rusty turned his attention to his now growling stomach.

He momentarily debated whether or not he wanted to go through the trouble of cooking something, or just eat a bowl of cereal, and ultimately decided to wait until Andy emerged from his room just in case he had a plan for breakfast. He moved to walk around the island and sit at one of the bar stools on the opposite side, but stopped short when he noticed his path was blocked by the small sofa that usually separated the living room and kitchen.

"What the-" Rusty didn't know how he completely missed the fact that all of the living room furniture was pushed further out from their usual places. Or how he missed the sight of Andy sitting on the floor, hunched over and reading what, judging by the pieces that were scattered all over the floor around him, was most likely directions to the desk they had bought yesterday. Rusty squeezed his body between the small sofa and the cabinets, intending to join Andy in the living room, but his plan was thwarted when he almost ran directly into the coffee table that he didn't see had been pushed up next to the couch. "Oh, shit!"

Rusty did a little hopping maneuver to regain his balance as he narrowly missed the table, then groaned when despite his best attempts to keep his mug balanced, some of his coffee sloshed out of it. He was thankful that it all splashed onto the hardwood floors and not the couch next to him, or even the area rug a few steps away, but still perturbed that he lost some of the precious cup of joe. He stared at the spilled liquid for a few seconds, then with a shrug, ran his sock covered foot over the spot and wiped it dry. Bending his leg, he crouched slightly to pull off his now stained, wet sock and slipped it into his pocket. Satisfied that the spot was clean, he finally looked over at Andy to find him staring at him with amusement in his eyes and a barely suppressed smirk on his face.

"That," Andy pointed at Rusty with the papers he held in his hand, "is why I don't allow food or drink to leave the kitchen." The last of his words came out as a chuckle. He cleared his throat and regained his composure. "I'm surprised you're up already." He made a show of looking his foster son up and down, noting his disheveled appearance. If his still mussed up hair and the bleary-eyed look he was wearing were anything to go by, the kid was definitely still more asleep than awake. "You were up late last night."

A contrite smile twitched at his lips, then Rusty looked down towards his feet. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I didn't mean to keep you up." He honestly didn't think he had the volume on the television up that loud.

"You didn't," Andy smirked, "it's just a hazard of old age." His smirk turned to a grimace when his back chose that precise moment to twinge, reminding him exactly how old he was–too old to be sitting on the floor. "I just noticed the light from the TV shining from under the door," he slowly sat up straighter, prompting several of his vertebrae to pop as he stretched out his spine, "when I woke up in the middle of the night."

Thankful he wasn't getting yelled at for the spilled coffee or for staying up late, Rusty's shoulders sagged in relief. "What are you doing?" The question was unnecessary considering the mess he gestured towards with his free hand.

Andy groaned and leaned back against his recliner he was sitting in front of. "I was trying to put your desk together," he smacked the pages with the small object he had in his hand, "but the typing is so small on the damn directions that I can barely read it." He tossed the few stapled pages away in frustration, and they slid across one of the larger wooden pieces before stopping when they hit the rug on the other side. "Plus, half the pieces aren't labeled with their part number."

The first thing Andy had done upon opening the box and removing all the pieces was to double check that all the parts were there, and line them up in alphabetical order. He had become increasingly more irritated when he realized many of them didn't have the little white sticker with a letter on it. He had done his best to compare the images on the directions to the remaining unknown parts, but he still wasn't convinced he had it right because some of the smaller pieces that made up the drawers and shelf were almost too similar to notice a difference. All he knew was he had the correct number of parts, but no way of really knowing if they were the right ones. He was half tempted to just chuck everything over the balcony and be done with it, but the reminder that it was for Rusty prevented him from doing just that.

Rusty snorted a laugh into his coffee mug. From the moment he started living with him, Rusty knew Andy was not a very patient man, but their shopping trip yesterday provided a whole new insight in just how testy he could really be. Normally that would be a red flag in Rusty's book, but he also learned that the worst thing Andy would do when he was irritated was to complain about it loudly and for an extended amount of time. It was a toss up whether Rusty found the older man's moods amusing or annoying; right now he was leaning towards amusing. He took one more large gulp of his drink, then set the cup down on the coffee table.

Moving towards the papers that Andy discarded, Rusty picked them up and flipped back to the first page, then began reading from it with ease. "Lay the desktop, that should be part 'H'," Rusty pointed to the largest piece lying just at his feet, "top down so that-"

"Okay, okay," Andy grunted as he rolled onto his hip, then to his hands and knees so he could pull the part closer to him, "I get it. You have no problem reading the instructions." He shifted his weight to one hand and forcefully pointed a finger at the kid. "That means you will be helping me assemble both the desk and the bookcase."

"That's fine," Rusty moved some of the smaller parts out of the way with his foot, then plopped down on the floor, "if you did it yourself it would probably turn out crooked," a cocky smile lit up his features, "or you'd put it together backwards."

One corner of Andy's mouth twitched up into a sneer as he sat down once again. "Just start reading and tell me what pieces I need."

"Already ahead of you," Rusty mumbled as he pulled a couple of wooden pegs along with a nut and bolt from the package they were still in. "Here." He held out the hardware pieces along with the connecting piece.

Andy didn't take the proffered items right away, instead he was searching the area around him. "Where the hell is it?"

"What are you looking for?" Rusty asked, exasperated and dropped his arms so he was no longer holding up parts.

"The damn allen wrench that came with the rest of the tools." He threw his arms out, and rocked side to side, checking to make sure it wasn't underneath his legs. "I just had it."

"What's this?" Rusty plucked a small object from Andy's hand when it moved directly in front of his face.

"Ah, geez." Andy snatched the tool back. He had been holding it for so long he forgot about it being in his hand. Knowing Rusty wouldn't be able to refrain from making a smart-mouth comment, he narrowed his eyes at his foster son and said, "Don't."

Rusty of course did not heed the warning. "Remind me never to get old." He smiled cheekily. "You wake up in the middle of the night, and you can't see or find anything, even when it's right in your hand." He fell back on his elbows and laughed when Andy's scowl only deepened.

Andy picked up the hardware that Rusty dropped on the floor in front of him. "Damned comedian," he mumbled under his breath, but a small smile still twitched at his lips when he turned his back on the kid to figure out how the pieces went together.

Normally Rusty's sarcastic remarks irritated the hell out of Andy, but after their shopping excursion yesterday, the kid had begun throwing them out more in jest, rather than trying to be hurtful; Andy, of course, made sure to give back as good as he got. Naturally, they had their fair share of spats, but it really turned out to be a pretty good day.

" _What is this place?" Rusty asked as he shielded his eyes from the sun to look up at the large blue and yellow building with the letters I-K-E-A on the front._

" _Supposed to be the most amazing place to buy furniture." Andy said with exaggerated excitement, even adding in a little skip as they walked towards the front doors. "You can find anything and everything you could want." He shrugged and his tone returned_ _to its normal pitch. "At least that's what Sykes said." She had also said they should be able to find some nice things without having to spend a fortune, which Andy really liked, but didn't think was necessary to tell Rusty._

 _Once they passed through the automatic doors, it took a moment for their eyes to adjust, but when they did, both men abruptly came to a stop and stared wide-eyed at the sight before them._

" _This place is huge!" Andy exclaimed. It was immediately followed by Rusty's equally stunned observation. "Is that an escalator to a second floor?"_

 _They both took a moment longer to take in their surroundings before Andy was the first to voice the question that was popping up in both their minds. "How in the hell are we supposed to find our way around this place?"_

" _Do people actually live in here?" Rusty pointed up in the direction of a couple of bedroom staging areas that could be seen from their position._

 _They were both startled by laughter coming from right behind them, and swiftly stepped aside, offering simultaneous apologies when they realized they were blocking the entrance._

" _Is this your first time here?" the_ _strange woman asked kindly._

" _Isn't it obvious?" Rusty asked sarcastically, earning him an elbow to the side and a warning glare from Andy._

 _The woman didn't seem to notice his snarky attitude because she grabbed Rusty's_ _wrist and gently tugged him in the direction of a big blue sign. Andy wanted to laugh at the wide-eyed_ _look of horror on the kid's face, but even he was startled by the stranger's enthusiasm. She shoved a paper and tiny pencil into Rusty's hands, then proceeded to explain how to use them._

" _She sounds just as excited as Sykes was about this place." Andy leaned over and whispered to Rusty while the lady rambled on. "Must be a woman thing." He smiled brightly as their helper looked up at him when she finished her explanation. "Thank you so much, I think we've got it from here." When she walked away and they were left standing alone again, he looked over at his foster son and in a deadpan tone said, "We have arrived in Hell."_

" _And they've given us a map!" Rusty tried saying cheerfully, but it sounded too forced even to his ears._

" _You better not get us lost, Kid," Andy mock threatened while he grabbed one of the small carts that had been pointed out to them. "So where would you like to start? Up or down?"_

" _Let's go up first," Rusty suggested, intrigued by the areas that looked like rooms in a house._

" _Lead the way." Andy held out his hand, indicating for Rusty to go first._

 _Walking through the store wasn't as bad as Andy originally anticipated. Besides the map that Rusty referred to every so often, there were also arrows hanging above them, guiding the way._ _Other than the occasional "This place is insane" or "Do people's houses really look like this", they remained mostly quiet. He had yet to see Rusty take a real interest in anything, or write any item numbers down, but there was still a lot to see._

 _They were coming up on a section that only had entertainment centers displayed when one of them caught Andy's eye. A door on his current one was about to fall off, and he figured it wouldn't hurt to take a look while they were here._

" _Hold up one sec, Rusty." Andy diverted off the designated path and headed straight towards the item that had caught his eye. He inspected it up and down, before turning to look behind him. "What do you think of this one?" His heart dropped into his stomach when he realized there was no one behind him. "Rusty?" Panic entered into his voice._

 _Andy darted back up to the walkway, looking left and right, but didn't see Rusty among the few people walking by. "Son of a bitch, not again," he muttered to himself. He set off in the direction they had been going before he got sidetracked, hoping that Rusty had just continued on without him._

 _He made it past three staging areas, Rusty nowhere in sight, and was just about to walk past a fourth when the light blue hoodie peeking over the side of one of the beds caught his eye. "Rusty!"_

 _Rusty's head popped up from where he was inspecting a desk. "Hey, I think I like this one." He took a good look at Andy and noticed he was breathing heavily. "What's wrong?"_

 _Andy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Nothing's wrong," he cooly_ _responded, not wanting Rusty to know just how panicked he had become in a few short minutes. "So you found one you like?"_

 _Rusty stared at him a moment longer, trying to determine if he believed him_ _. When Andy just gazed steadily back, he decided it really was nothing. "Yea," he said, turning his attention back to the desk in front of him. "There's a bookshelf over there that matches it." He pointed to the small two-shelf case on the other side of the 'room'._

" _You want the shelf, too?" Andy inquired, taking a good look at each piece and noting they actually weren't very expensive._

 _Rusty shyly looked up at him from his kneeling position. "Would that be okay?"_

" _Of course." Andy confirmed with a nod of his head. "They're practically the same color wood as the other furniture in your room," Andy said in amazement. "It will all look good together."_

" _Yeah," Rusty responded distractedly as he opened_ _up one of the drawers, "it's one of the reasons why I like them."_

" _Did you write the numbers down?" Andy tapped the piece of paper that was now sitting on top of the desk._

" _Not yet." Rusty hopped up to do just that._

 _Once the item numbers were copied down, they finished the tour of the second floor, making it back around to the escalator. As they were riding down, Rusty noticed that Andy was now empty handed._

" _What happened to the cart you were pushing?" He looked around Andy to make sure it wasn't on the step behind him._

" _Oh, uh," Andy rubbed his top lip with his finger, remembering it was left by that entertainment center he was looking at. "One of the other customers forgot to grab one so I offered her ours since I didn't think we needed it," he lied smoothly._

" _Ah," Rusty responded, then turned to face forward again. "Are we by any_ _chance getting lunch after this?" He stepped off the escalator and looked back at Andy, hopeful._

" _We have one more stop to make after this," Andy steered him in the direction of the checkout lines, "then we can get some lunch."_

" _Where else do we have to go?" Rusty's shoulders sagged and he began dragging his feet, not liking the idea of having another stop to make._

 _Andy gave Rusty's back a slight nudge to propel him forward again. "To get you something that will help me locate you if I lose sight of you."_

 _A perplexed expression crossed_ _Rusty's face, then his eyes widened in horror. "You're not talking about like a dog tag are you?"_

 _A low chuckle rumbled through Andy's chest. "Don't tempt me, Kid."_

"Wait! Slow down!" Andy yanked his hand away just in time before the desk thudded hard against the wall. He shot Rusty a glare.

Rusty dropped his end of the desk. "Sorry." He began nervously running his hands over his legs.

Andy's expression softened, hating that he caused the look of panic on Rusty's face. He had to remind himself the kid was just excited about his new things. "It's okay, my hand came out unscathed, and," he shifted the desk slightly to get a look at the wall, "so did the wall."

Rusty managed a small smile. "Good."

"Is everything where you want it?" Andy pivoted and scanned the room around him. They had rearranged some of the older furniture to make room for the two new ones.

"Yea," Rusty nodded with a big smile. He immediately picked up his backpack and pulled out his laptop and one of his books, placing it on top of his new desk. "Umm," he look over at Andy with a slight frown, "what do I sit on?"

"Dammit," Andy scrubbed a hand over his face. He completely forgot about a chair. "Just use one of the dining room chairs for now until we get you something else."

"I'll grab one later." Rusty threw himself on his bed face down. "God, that took forever!"

"Are you trying to blame me again?" Andy braced his hands on his hips, preparing himself for another disagreement.

Rusty lifted his face from the mattress and stared pointedly at Andy. "You're the one that put the legs of the desk on backwards."

"And who is the one that handed me the parts and told me where to put them?" Andy looked over at Rusty with a raised brow, daring him to argue back.

"Whatever," Rusty muttered and rolled his eyes. "It ended up taking three hours when it probably should've only taken one because you had to undo _everything_."

"It's still your fault," Andy snapped back, not wanting Rusty to have the last word on the matter.

They had already had this argument once when he realized part of the desk was in fact put together backwards and he couldn't put in the rails for the drawers. Other than that and the occasional spat about whether the picture matched the part, they had worked fairly well together.

Realizing he had been defeated, Rusty changed the topic. "I didn't have breakfast, and now it's past noon." He rolled over onto his back, laying his hands on his stomach. "I'm starving!"

It was Andy's turn to roll his eyes. "Go make yourself a sandwich."

"We had sandwiches for lunch yesterday," Rusty whined.

Andy groaned at Rusty's petulant behavior. "Then call in and order some pizza."

"Okay!" Rusty shot up from the bed, his single socked foot causing him to slide on the hardwood floors and momentarily lose balance as he rushed down the hall to kitchen for the take out menus.

"Make sure you also order something I'll like!" Andy called after him, knowing he would most likely order a meat lovers for himself.

He glanced around the room once more. It definitely looked a lot nicer with the new furniture and like someone actually lived in it. The thought brought a small smile to his lips. He flipped off the light, and followed in the direction Rusty had gone. He could just make out his foster son's voice as he placed the order, and Andy wondered if it was possible for them to agree on a movie to watch so they could enjoy the rest of their Sunday afternoon before heading back into the real world the next day.

. . .

"Lieutenant Flynn?"

Surprised to hear DDA Hobbs ask for him, Andy looked up from the evidence box with a questioning raise of his eyebrow.

Hobbs didn't even slow down her stride from the murder room entrance, but merely added, "May I have a word with you and your Captain?"

Andy shot Provenza a confused look, but he shrugged, mirroring the expressions of Buzz and Mike who both seemed equally clueless.

"Uh, yeah," Andy gave the lid of his evidence box to Mike, and squeezed past Amy's desk and Buzz toward Andrea. "She's in her office," he added, waving a hand in that direction.

"Alright." Andrea nodded and redirected her stride toward Sharon's office. Wordlessly, she gave the door a quick knock and opened it before waiting for Sharon's response.

"DDA Hobbs, thank you for-" Sharon started, but fell silent when she saw Andy stepping inside right behind her. "Lieutenant?" she questioned, surprised.

Andy gave her a brief wide-eyed look and, confused, slowly shook his head. Although he had a bad feeling regarding what, or rather who, this impromptu meeting was about, eyeing the attorney quizzically, he said, "Hobbs wanted a word with the both of us."

"Oh," Sharon let out, the dip her tone took indicating she shared Andy's trepidations. She waited for Andrea to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Is this about," her eyes flickered to Andy, who had remained standing at the door once he closed it, "Rusty?"

Andrea turned toward Andy. "It is," she confirmed somewhat sympathetically.

"Oh," Andy said, then rounded Andrea's chair to sit on the one next to her. Bracing his hands against the chair's armrest, he asked, worry seeping into his voice, "Something wrong?"

Pursing her lips, Andrea quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side. "That is to be seen," she said cryptically. When both Sharon and Andy frowned in puzzlement, she went on to explain. "As you know, Rusty's DNA ended up being in the mask he pulled off Phillip Stroh." She turned sideways, facing both of them, and folded her hands in her lap. "In our follow-up, the lab found a familial match to the boy in our criminal database."

"Familial match?" Andy sat up ramrod straight. "You actually found some of his family and," his shoulders suddenly slumped, "they turned out to be a criminal?" He sighed and collapsed against the back of his chair. Rusty could just _not_ catch a break.

Andrea gave his little outburst a slightly surprised look, then reached into her purse, retrieving a red accordion folder. "Paul Dunn." She gave it to Andy. "He was arrested for dealing cocaine in San Diego about six years ago." A crease forming on his brow, Andy expanded the offered file, and dug out a few of the pages he found inside, only half listening to her. "Looks like Rusty's paternal uncle. He has an older brother, Daniel Dunn, who, I bet, will test out as Rusty's biological father."

Andy swallowed, needing a few seconds to process her words, a million questions already running through his head, like where this guy was Rusty's entire life, if he had known about Rusty, and if not, if he would want to know about Rusty once DCFS informed him, if _Rusty_ would want to know about _him_... Sharon clearing her throat snapped him out of his musings, and he realized she wanted to take a look at the information herself. "Sorry," he mumbled and leaned forward to place the folder and the papers he already extracted from it on the desk so both could read them.

"I found the birth certificate," Andrea went on, pointing a finger at one of the sheets Sharon lifted off the small stack, "listing Sharon Beck as Rusty's mother, father unknown. It's from a San Diego hospital."

Andy gave Sharon a somewhat lost look, then shook his head. "I gotta tell Rusty, and when I do…" he trailed off, shaking his head again.

"Hold on," Sharon put up a hand in a placating manner, and addressed Andrea, "is there any evidence to-" she cut herself off suddenly, eyes going slightly wide and settling on something behind the two figures in front of her.

Both of them turned around, and Andy let out a half groan, half sigh when he saw Rusty just outside the office. His shoulders were slumped and his hands were crammed into his pockets as he slowly paced a hole in the floor. The look Andy caught him shooting his way instantly put him on edge. "Oh, God, if he got into another fight," Andy grumbled, pushing himself up to his feet.

He offered Sharon an apologetic look, about to ask for a moment to see how urgent whatever was bugging Rusty was, but she was already ahead of him. She pointed her chin at Rusty. "Go." Tapping her fingers against the folder, she added, "This isn't going anywhere, Lieutenant."

"Thanks," he said on a nod, already making his way to her second door.

He had only just opened it, and hadn't even made it through the door, when Rusty zeroed in on him.

"Andy," the name left Rusty's lips in a demanding tone, and he came to an instant halt. There was a pause in which he adjusted his loose hold on the backpack strap hanging off a single shoulder, before he continued in a more pleading tone. "What if I got my license so that I can drive myself home instead of being picked up by patrol cars all the time?" He let his backpack slide off his shoulder until he could grab it by its handle and then swayed it along his side, dropping his gaze to the floor in the process. "It just…" his voice turned whining, "it looks weird, Andy," he looked up, "my always riding off with the police."

For a second Andy just stared at him, not immediately comprehending the boy's words. "A license?" he repeated stupidly, a frown appearing on his forehead. Rusty instantly nodded. "Uhm," Andy looked over his shoulder and found Andrea and Sharon watching them, "can we discuss this a little while later?" He turned and stepped slightly to the side so he could wave a hand at his company, and added, "We're kind of in the middle of something important."

Rusty shot him a wide-eyed look and threw his free arm out. "This is important, too! It's bad enough I'm the new kid, I can't keep on being the kid who has a police babysitter, too!"

Andy suppressed an eye roll, a hard feat, considering Rusty's little rant had attracted the attention of his other colleagues in the murder room. Folding his arms and leaning a shoulder against the doorway, since Rusty made no move to let him actually walk out of the office, he said, "Okay, fine. We get you your driver's license, then what?" He raised an unimpressed eyebrow at Rusty. "Instead of your," he put up air quotation marks, " _babysitters_ driving you around, _you_ will be driving _them_ around?" His words were laced heavily with sarcasm.

Rusty groaned. "Oh, my God," he threw his head back and looked at the ceiling, "ordinary people leave their children alone," he dragged his next words out in exasperation, " _all the time_." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "When will you understand that I _don't need_ police supervision?"

"Well, I'm not ordinary people, Kid," Andy pushed his shoulder off the doorway, "and neither are you for that matter." He pointed a finger at him. "You are a material-"

Rusty interjected. "Witness in a murder trial that never begins!" Suddenly he looked past Andy's shoulder and into the office, acknowledging the two women inside for the first time since arriving. "I'm not a little kid, and isn't it illegal for him to be asking cops to pick me up places?"

Andrea shook her head, an understanding smile on her lips as she took to her feet. "As a material witness in this murder trial…" she trailed off, shrugging, leaving the rest of the answer Rusty wouldn't like unvoiced.

Rusty's jaw dropped open, but before he could gear up for another protest, preemptively, Andy lifted the palm of his hand. "Can we please table this for when I'm done here?" His brow furrowed as he scrambled for something to give Rusty to do in the meantime, and then his eyes landed on his backpack, giving him the perfect way out. "Don't you have homework or something to keep you busy until then?"

Rusty shot his backpack an almost offended look before meeting Andy's stern glare. "Yeah," he rolled his eyes, "they're making us read Hamlet," he said somewhat deflatedly.

"Great," Andy took a step back, and put a hand on the door, "that ought to take up enough of your time." He made a sweeping gesture at him and caught Buzz's eye to make sure Rusty didn't wander off in the wrong direction. When Buzz, albeit instantly annoyed, nodded, he added, "I'll get back to you as soon as I can then." He didn't even wait for Rusty's response before closing the door in his surprised face. He then looked to the side of the door, just to make sure Rusty would leave, only to be met by the kid peeking into the office. Irritation getting the better of him, Andy grabbed the blinds' pull string and, tugging at it a little excessively, snapped them shut. Just as he sighed in both mental exhaustion and relief, he remembered he was in his Captain's office and in the company of a DDA no less. He turned around abruptly, grimacing. "Sorry about that."

Andrea was openly smiling in amusement, and although his Captain remained straight-faced, he could tell there was an air of suppressed amusement about her, too. The deputy DA folded her arms and smirked. "Finally met your match, Lieutenant?"

Andy's immediate response was an annoyed frown before he realized she was actually spot on. Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, on almost a growl, he said, "You have no idea."

That made Andrea outright laugh, and even Sharon cracked a smile. "Look, Lieutenant," Andrea was back to business, "it's up to you to decide what to tell the boy, but I don't think the father has any legal standing." She drew her shoulders together. "And he may know as little about Rusty as Rusty knows about him."

Andy nodded, his earlier concern returning. "Well, keeping this from him isn't an option," he decided. "I just gotta wrap my own head around it before I tell him." He grew slightly anxious thinking about what locating Rusty's biological father would mean, and not just because he had gotten used to having him around. Rusty had finally started to properly settle in, in school and at the condo, and for a kid who strongly disliked change, that was incredible progress. He tried to think positively, that perhaps Sharon Beck had simply never told Daniel Dunn about his son and that the guy would turn out to be father of the year, but at the same time he worried how Rusty would adapt to yet another huge change in his life, even a potentially good one. He also worried about the volatile reaction he was bound to receive from the moody teenager once he was filled in on the latest developments.

Sharon slid the folder across her desk, and Andy noted she had returned all the papers back inside, probably while Rusty held his attention. "This might help," she offered.

"Yeah," Andy took the few steps toward her desk and grabbed the information Andrea had compiled. "Thanks." Assuming she might want one, since she was officially the lead investigator on the Stroh case, he added, "I'll make you a copy."

She shook her head a little. "That's alright," she told him, giving him a sympathetic look Andy had seen barely a handful of times in all the years he had known her. Being on the receiving end of it made him feel uncomfortable to say the least. As if sensing it, Sharon abruptly tapped her hands against the edge of her desk and switched topics. "Meanwhile," her eyes flickered between Andrea and Andy, "I believe we have a more pressing matter on our hands?"

Nodding, and getting his mind back on track with the case, Andy agreed. "Yeah." He found himself suddenly appreciative of the distraction their case would provide before he had to deal with the news that was just dropped into his lap. He made his way to the door and opened it, gesturing for Andrea to go first. Sharon remained seated for a moment longer, so deciding not to wait up on her, he followed Andrea to see what progress with the evidence the team had made before she asked for an update.

That was why he didn't see the stop Sharon made once she finally stood to join them. Smiling to herself, she had paused at her blinds, then, on an amused headshake, thinking about how they had been closed a few minutes earlier, tugged on the string to pull them open again before stepping into the murder room.

. . .

Andy was alone in the elevator, riding it back up to the ninth floor after escorting the Barlows downstairs. Notifying a parent that their child had been murdered was never easy, but tonight it seemed even more rough. He watched as the numbers slowly ticked away, and the closer he got to the right floor, the heavier his body seemed to feel. There was still one more notification he had to make tonight, and he felt it would be just as difficult for its own reasons.

In an attempt to dispel some of the figurative weight he was experiencing, he twisted his upper torso from side-to-side while simultaneously shaking out his arms. He then rolled his shoulders back a few times and craned his neck, momentarily enjoying the relief of the pops that were prompted by the movement. When the elevator chimed and the doors began to open, he took one final deep breath and slowly expelled it before making his exit. Despite his efforts, the tightness in his chest still persisted, and his mind felt cluttered with all the what ifs he had been replaying throughout the day. He didn't think he was ready to share the recently discovered information with Rusty, but also knew he probably never would be and it would only be worse the longer he waited.

Arriving in the murder room, Andy found Provenza slumped over his desk, his head propped on his free hand as he worked his way through the report, and through the blinds of her office, he could see the Captain at hers. He walked to his own desk, and stood in front of it rather than taking a seat. He fingered the red file that was resting on top, trying to decide if he should join his partner, or the rest of the team and just call it a night. He knew he should probably get Rusty and take him home so he could have dinner, but a part of him wanted to delay leaving for a little bit longer. The sound of the door closing behind him startled him out of his reverie.

"It's been a long day." Sharon stopped next to Andy. "I'm sure you have other things to do this evening." She briefly glanced down at the file on his desk before giving him a reassuring smile. "The rest of the paperwork can wait until tomorrow." Adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder, she looked pointedly between the two men, and in a tone that said she was not to be argued with, said, "Goodnight, Gentlemen," before heading towards the exit.

"Goodnight, Captain," they murmured in unison.

Provenza didn't waste any time placing the report he was working on in one of his top drawers before rolling back his chair and standing. "So," he began rolling down the sleeves on his shirt, "you finally gonna tell me what Hobbs said that now has you so worried?" He buttoned the final button at his wrist, then pulled his jacket off the back of the chair. "Is the kid in trouble?"

Provenza had tried cornering Andy a couple of times throughout the day to inquire about the impromptu meeting, but the case had moved along quickly and kept them busy so each time Andy just told him, "Later."

"No, he's not in trouble." Andy took a seat on the corner of his desk, leaving one leg planted on the floor while bending the other so that his foot dangled off the edge. "During follow-up on the Stroh case, the DA's office got a familial DNA match to an uncle in the criminal database." He let out a deep sigh. "The guy's brother is most likely Rusty's dad."

"Oh." Provenza paused mid-movement, his arms slid only halfway into his jacket and were now slightly pinned behind his back. "Are you going to tell Rusty?" He finally shrugged his jacket completely over his frame.

Andy defensively crossed his arms over his chest, even though there was nothing accusatory in his partner's tone. "Of course I'm going to tell him."

Provenza picked his phone up from where it was lying on his desk. "Then what's the big deal?"

Andy shifted so that both feet were not touching the floor. "The big deal is that Rusty is finally settling in," his body rose, along with the volume of his voice, "and something else has come up to blow it all to hell again." He took a moment to regain his composure before continuing in a much calmer tone. "You know," a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth, "we actually had a good weekend together, and he even laughed a couple of times. I mean," he managed to light-heartedly chuckle, "he's got a smart mouth and sometimes he's an even bigger pain in the ass than you are," he shrugged, "but for the most part, it really hasn't been that bad." He moved behind his desk, and took a seat in his chair. "Rusty just needs some stability, not for someone else to come swooping in," his hand made a similar movement to match his words, "making promises they won't keep."

Despite the validity of Andy's concerns, Provenza knew he needed to be the devil's advocate right now because it wouldn't do any good for them to both be dwelling on the negative. "For all you know, his biological father could be someone to provide that for him. Look, Flynn," he held up his hands in a placating gesture, "I know you've grown attached to the boy, and you don't want to hear this," he shrugged, genuinely apologetic, "but being with his own family could be really good for him."

"But what if this guy turns out to be a dirtbag like his brother?" Andy asked, the worry clearly evident in his tone. "Don't you think he's had enough disappointment from a parent to last him a lifetime?"

"And what if he turns out to be father of the year?" Provenza quickly countered.

"I know." Andy collapsed forward, then rested his elbows on the table and cradled his face in his hands. "Doesn't make telling him any easier though." He looked at the file on his desk through his fingers, wishing he could hold off just a little longer. "Hey," he sat up straight again, and looked hopefully up at his partner, "would you mind taking the kid out for a burger? I could really use a meeting right about now to help clear my head a little before I have to deal with all of this."

With Rusty still in emergency care, it had been hard for Andy to attend his usual Thursday night meeting, much less go to an extra one during the week. He didn't want to make a habit of skipping them like he did that first night Rusty had stayed with him, so he had made arrangements for someone to keep an eye on the kid either at home or at the PAB. Since having someone supervise Rusty at the condo meant sending him home with a uniform, and it didn't sit right with Andy to take advantage of the officers' assistance for personal reasons, he had mostly tried leaving during the slow periods when everyone was working on paperwork. Andy hoped that the emergency care status would be lifted soon so he wouldn't have to worry about inconveniencing anyone anymore, but until then, he would continue to make the necessary arrangements.

Provenza thoroughly enjoyed giving his partner a hard time about a lot of things, but Andy's sobriety was not something he ever considered to be a joking matter. "Sure," he shrugged, "I can do that." He made his way around Julio's desk, and walked the remaining short distance before coming to a stop in front of Andy. Holding his hand out with the palm up, he wiggled his fingers in a 'give me' gesture.

Andy looked up at his partner in confusion until it dawned on him what he was asking for. "You've got to be kidding me!"

Provenza scoffed. "I'm not going to do you a favor on my own dime." His tone and expression made it clear that was a completely absurd idea. "Fork it over." He thrust out his hand again, but this time he smacked his palm with the other, unnecessarily indicating exactly where he wanted Andy to place the money.

While scowling at the older man the entire time, Andy's movements were exaggerated as he rolled out from under his desk, stomped to his feet, and jerked his wallet out of his pocket. "You know," Andy cracked open his billfold and pulled out a twenty, "I have picked up the tab more than my fair share of times when we go out to eat," he slapped the money into Provenza's waiting palm, "it wouldn't kill you to return the favor every once in awhile."

"Yes, it would," Provenza said matter-of-factly. He pocketed the bill, then held out his hand again. "I'm going to need another because that won't cover it at the place I intend to go."

"No," Andy shook his head, and snapped his wallet shut and hid it behind his back, "this is where I draw the line. If you want to go to that fancy burger place, you can use that," he pointed to where Provenza had pocketed the money, "to pay for Rusty's meal and buy your own."

Unwilling to back down, Provenza stood his ground. "Do you want to go to a meeting or not?"

The two men stood, scowling at each other for several moments, but Andy knew when he was beaten and relented with a growled out, "Fine!" He pulled out another twenty. "I'm sure there's no point in asking you for the change." Instead of placing the money into Provenza's hand, he crumpled it and thrust it into his chest. "I'm never asking you for help again." He forcefully shoved his chair back under his desk, grabbed the file from on top of it, and headed towards the interview room where he last saw Rusty.

"That's fine by me," Provenza said cheerfully as he flattened out the crinkled bill, then put it, along with the other one, into his own wallet.

. . .

Provenza had been in a rush ever since they left the PAB, so much so that he had Rusty call in their order ahead of time so all they, more specifically Rusty, had to do was go inside to pick it up. Once they arrived at the restaurant, rather than pulling into a spot, he parked in front of the entrance, slapped some money into Rusty's hand, and practically shoved him out of the car while ordering him to _run_ and get the food. When they arrived at the condo, Rusty felt like he had to practically jog to keep up with the older man as he walked to the elevator and then down the hall to the front door.

"If you're so eager to eat, why didn't we just eat at the restaurant?" Rusty asked as he transferred the large to-go bag to his other hand so he could pull his key out of his pocket.

"Because they don't have a TV." Provenza distractedly responded, not looking up from his phone where he was typing out a text telling Andy they were eating at the condo.

Rusty paused mid-movement, hand still poised to slide the key in the lock. "You can't eat a burger without watching television?" he asked sarcastically.

"Of course I can," Provenza slid his phone in his pocket, "but I don't want to. Now would you hurry it up," he made a repetitive circular motion with his hand, "the food is gonna get cold."

Rusty pointedly looked at the older man. "It wouldn't get cold if we ate it there." He gave the front door a big shove, then kicked his foot out to hold it open.

"Ye Gods," Provenza reached down and snatched the bag from Rusty before shoving past him in annoyance, "I don't know how Flynn puts up with your smart mouth."

Rusty smirked at the back of the Lieutenant's head. "Probably the same way he puts up with yours." He released his foot and slipped in before the door closed behind him.

Provenza's step faltered. He wanted to respond with his own equally snide remark, but considering the kid was right, he ultimately decided it wasn't worth the wasted breath, and continued down the hall, straight into the kitchen. Setting the bag on the counter next to the fridge, he pulled its door open to find himself a drink. "I knew I should've gotten something from the restaurant," he grumbled when he found nothing appealing and pulled out a bottle of water, then forcefully closed the door again. Having not heard him walk by, he startled when he found Rusty standing at the counter pulling the to-go containers out of the bag and inspecting each one. When he was handed the right one, Provenza marched straight past the boy, directly into the living room.

"Just so you know," Rusty pulled a glass down from the cabinet above him, "there's no eating in the living room."

Provenza got himself positioned in Andy's recliner, tucking the water bottle between his body and the side cushion and placing the food container on his lap. "Says who?" he asked when he picked up the remote that was sitting on the chair's arm.

"Andy," Rusty answered, his tone suggesting it was a stupid question.

"Flynn can kiss my ass." Provenza rolled his eyes and reclined the chair back. "I'm doing him a favor."

Rusty shook his head. "It's your funeral," he called out over the noise of his glass being filled with ice.

Provenza ignored the kid's warning and began searching through the channel guide for something to watch, a crease on his brow forming, then deepening the longer he looked. "I missed both Jeopardy and The Wheel," he hit the page down button forcefully, "and now there's nothing on but garbage." Ultimately settling on a rerun of an old sitcom that he decided was bearable, he opened the styrofoam container and rubbed his hands together in excitement. The hissing sound of a soda can being opened drew his attention to the kitchen, where Rusty was standing at the counter, pouring the can's contents into a glass. "Where did you get that?" he sputtered, having found only water when he looked.

Rusty nodded his head in the direction of the fridge. "From the drawer I keep them in."

Provenza frowned, he didn't think to look in the drawer because he considered that to be a ridiculous place to keep soda. "Bring me one, will ya?" he asked, though it sounded more like a command. "I don't need a glass."

"Sorry," Rusty's tone suggested he was anything but. Staring directly at the older man the entire time, he brought the can to his lips and noisily sipped the last few remaining drops, "last one." He then pulled out the in-cabinet trash cans and tossed the can into the back container.

Provenza mumbled something, but Rusty wasn't able to hear it. He figured it was probably something along the lines of him being a smart ass or a pain in the ass, and the thought made him smile. He didn't know why, but he kind of liked the Lieutenant's cynicism and typically crotchety attitude, even if he had to hear Andy complain about it on an almost daily basis.

Not feeling brave enough to join the Lieutenant in eating in the living room, Rusty took a seat at the last stool at the island which allowed him to have a perfect view of the television. He wasn't much interested in whatever show was currently playing, but it was better than staring at a blank wall in front of him in the dining room. Silence settled between the two as they started on their dinner, but it didn't last long because there was something that had been on Rusty's mind since they left the PAB. He was definitely going to ask Andy about it, but he figured he could never be too cautious, and thought it wouldn't hurt to see what the Lieutenant said on the matter as well. Knowing it probably wasn't smart to interrupt the show, he waited until a commercial came on to broach the subject.

Rusty cleared his throat, hoping to get Provenza's attention. The older man's focus remained on the TV, but by the way his head tilted, Rusty could tell he was listening. "I thought Andy only went to one meeting a week?" he asked in an even tone, not wanting to appear as though he was overly concerned.

Provenza shrugged. "Usually," he took a large bite out of his burger, crumbs and sesame seeds falling down onto the front of his shirt and lap, then speaking around his food, he added, "but sometimes it's two."

When it was obvious the older man wasn't going to add anything else, Rusty inquired further. "Then why did he say he needed an extra meeting?"

Provenza sighed, he should've expected that the kid would have questions. "Every detective has their own way of processing a difficult case." He held out his left hand as though he was waiting for an offering. "Flynn goes to a meeting," he then held up his other hand in the exact same way, "I like to indulge in an extra glass of wine." He alternately lifted and lowered both hands. "Two very different methods, but for the most part, they both get the job done."

"So," Rusty slowly dragged a french fry through his ketchup, unable to hide some of the concern he was feeling, "I shouldn't be worried that he's going to fall off the wagon or something?"

"Not today." Provenza responded in a tone that said the discussion was over. He didn't mind answering some things to ease Rusty's mind, but it was really something he needed to discuss with Flynn.

Rusty took a bite out of his fry and, taking the Lieutenant's hint, simply said, "Okay," before dropping the topic.

They spent the remainder of their dinner watching TV, the conversation limited to commentary on the re-run that was airing. Nearly half an hour had passed, when Provenza suddenly announced that Andy would be coming home soon and that they ought to clean up. By then Rusty had already cleaned up after himself, but watched with great amusement, and a healthy amount of surprise (for he expected to have to do everything himself), as the Lieutenant gathered his leftovers. He even hastily collected some crumbs that inevitably landed on the recliner before moving into the kitchen to dispose of them and to rinse off his utensils.

Rusty's amusement must have been obvious, because Provenza stopped mid-movement as he was drying his hands off on a kitchen towel and barked out, "What?"

"Nothing," Rusty said innocently, leaning against a kitchen counter opposite of him. "It's just that," he tilted his head to the side, debating whether to give voice to his thoughts or not, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you were covering your tracks, Lieutenant."

To Rusty's renewed surprise, the Lieutenant did not disagree. "I know better than to leave food lying around the place," he grumbled, waving the towel through the air. "Flynn's annoying as is, I don't need to listen to him complain about my eating in his," he rolled his eyes, "precious recliner."

Rusty laughed. "I thought he could," he pushed off the counter and put up air quotation marks, "kiss your ass?"

Provenza merely shrugged. "He still can."

Laughing again, Rusty asked, "How is it that you two are friends?"

Provenza walked toward one of the bar stools. "I ask myself the same question every day," he drawled, taking a seat.

Rusty followed and was just about to hop on one of the stools himself, when they heard the front door opening and closing. The familiar clang of keys making contact with the bowl Andy usually dropped them in followed, along with Andy's almost singsong voice saying, "Honey, I'm home!"

"Ye, Gods," Provenza stood, "that better not be how he usually greets you," he told Rusty.

"No," Rusty said on a chuckle, "I think that one he reserved just for you, Lieutenant."

A smile on his face, Andy came into view. A red folder was tucked in between his side and arm. "Hi."

Foregoing a greeting, Provenza let out an exaggerated sigh and said, "About time, Flynn. Finally, I can go home."

Andy's smile instantly faded and he frowned. "Why?" He looked at Rusty, but he immediately put up his hands in surrender.

"Don't look at me," he said, wide-eyed.

Realizing it was simply one of Provenza's usual antics, Andy rolled his eyes and asked him, "What's so great about your place then?"

Provenza suddenly smirked. "Well, for one, you're not there."

"Well then," Andy moved to the side, clearing the way to the front door, and made a swooping gesture, "by all means, have a good night."

Curiosity getting the better of him, Rusty didn't let the Lieutenant leave quite so fast. "Wait, you said 'for one'?" he asked, his tone of voice indicating he wanted to hear what other things deemed his place more preferable than Andy's.

Provenza didn't mind answering. If anything, he seemed a little gleeful when he did. "I also have something other than water in my fridge."

Andy frowned, rubbing a hand over his brow. "But there's soda in the fridge dr-"

"Drawer!" Provenza interjected, suddenly agitated. "Who keeps soda in the fridge drawer when there's an entire shelf worth of room for it?" he added, flailing his arms around.

Getting a little irritated now, Andy scowled. "What does it matter where it was? The point is," he waved a hand in the direction of his fridge, "there _is_ something else in it other than water!"

"Erm," Rusty cleared his throat, drawing Andy's attention, "I may have accidentally taken the last soda can." The words were regretful enough but the way he said 'accidentally' made them sound anything but. Under normal circumstances, Andy would have chastised Rusty for his poor manners, but considering it riled up his partner, he decided to let it slip this time.

Provenza came to the same conclusion and narrowed his eyes at Rusty. "I think you might have already been spending too much time with Flynn, y'know." He waved his finger at him in disapproval, too.

Rusty laughed it off. "Well, if you hadn't insisted on eating here, you could have just ordered yourself a soda at the burger place."

Andy grinned at his partner. "He makes a good point."

Provenza, at a loss for words, just stared the two down for a moment. "You know what, I'm outta here." He started scrambling toward the hallway. "I do you a favor and this is how you repay me," he mumbled on his way.

"I paid for the food, didn't I?" Andy hollered after him, both Rusty and him following to walk him out.

Provenza turned around, just a couple of steps short of Andy's small foyer. "Well, if you ever want another favor from me, you better make sure there's something other than water in that fridge of yours." He waved a finger in Andy's face. "I won't insist on beer, but for God's sake, anything with a bit of sugar in it, _please_!"

Rusty barked out another laugh when Andy just waved Provenza off and brushed past him toward the door. "Yeah, yeah." Opening the door, he looked over Provenza's shoulder and briefly eyed Rusty. "Let's hope Rusty's emergency care status is lifted soon, so I won't have to expose him to your brand of babysitting again."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Provenza had walked to the open door, intent on leaving, but stopped in his tracks at those words.

Andy gave him an incredulous look. "Who would willingly agree to spending time with you?"

The teasing was beyond obvious, but Provenza turned to Rusty, more than a tad offended. "Hey, we had a good time, didn't we?"

Rusty smiled and nodded. "It really wasn't that bad," he told Andy, the shrug of his shoulders exaggerating his surprise over the fact. In truth, Rusty had had a really nice evening. Perhaps the Lieutenant wasn't the _best_ company, but in comparison to spending his time in the murder room or being watched by a uniformed officer that was most likely instructed to keep conversation with him at a bare minimum, this had really been an interesting change of pace.

Ignoring Rusty's teasing, Provenza looked at Andy smugly. "See?"

Andy chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, I see. Now," he waved his folder at him, "weren't you in the middle of going home?"

Provenza rolled his eyes, but finally stepped through the door. "See you tomorrow, Flynn." He nodded to Rusty. "You, too."

Rusty smiled. "Good night, Lieutenant, thanks for dinner."

"See ya," Andy added, leaning against the door and watching Provenza walk toward the elevators. "Thanks," he added, raising his voice a little so it would carry to him.

Not sparing him another glance, Provenza just waved a hand through the air. "Yeah, yeah, you owe me, I know."

Shaking his head, Andy chuckled and closed the door. When his gaze landed on Rusty, he noted he seemed fairly amused, but still asked, "You survived the evening alright?"

"If I survive my evenings with you," Rusty shrugged, "I can with him, too."

Andy shot him a glare. "Funny guy," he drawled, walking past him toward the living room.

Rusty followed him and took a seat on the couch, watching as Andy came to a halt in front of his recliner and frowned. He flopped his folder on the coffee table and put his hands on his hips, then turned to Rusty, looking very displeased. "He ate in here, didn't he?"

Impressed, Rusty's eyes went wide. "How could you tell? He even cleaned up!"

"Well, he did a lousy job of it." Andy made a show out of leaning over his recliner and inspecting it. "Sesame," he said, picking up a few seeds his partner failed to clean up from the seat. "Crumbs," he added, finding some of those as well and brushing them into his palm with the back of his hand. Straightening, he waved his hand at the floor. "And need I even mention this mess?"

Rusty peeked over the coffee table and indeed found a fair amount of crumbs there. Apologetically, he said, "I told him not to eat here, but he wouldn't listen." He then perked up a little, spreading his hands palms up as he shrugged. "On the bright side though, I don't see any stray fries lying around, or ketchup stains."

"Oh," Andy let out on a growl, "like Provenza would ever lose a fry."

Rusty laughed.

Deciding to just let it all be for now, Andy sank into his recliner, fully relaxing for probably the first time that day. "So, he only had water to drink, huh?" he asked contemplatively. When Rusty nodded, Andy smirked. "Serves him right then."

"Karma and all that?" Rusty failed to suppress another chuckle.

Andy grinned, scooting to the edge of his recliner to slip out of his suit jacket. "Precisely."

Rusty shook his head at him, an amused expression on his face though. "You guys make a strange couple," he concluded.

Andy turned to drape his jacket over the back of his recliner and shrugged. "Oh, well," he said, leaning back, mindful of creasing his jacket, "he's my partner even if I feel like physically maiming him most days."

Rusty chuckled again, but grew more serious as he decided to change topics, and maybe even finally bring up the question that had been on his mind earlier. "So," he scratched his nails nervously over the sofa's armrest, "how was your meeting?"

A flash of surprise crossed Andy's features, and for a moment Rusty wanted to take the words back, but then Andy sighed heavily and answered. "Good, I guess." He looked at Rusty with a somewhat pained expression and added, "You know," his voice thinned as he let out another sigh, "sometimes I really hate my job."

Rusty relaxed a little, glad Andy didn't mind his prying, and nodded. He knew enough about their case today to not really be surprised by Andy's unexpected admission. "Even the Captain seemed upset tonight."

"We all were," Andy clarified on a shrug. His focus fell on the table, and suddenly he seemed a mile away. "Cases involving kids…" he trailed off, shaking his head slightly.

"Are the hardest, huh?" Rusty asked knowingly.

Andy smiled sadly and looked up at him. "What was your first clue?" He intended to sound sarcastic, but ended up simply seeming resigned.

Rusty decided to actually answer. He clasped his hands together and tucked them in between his knees as he leaned into the back of the sofa. "Lieutenant Provenza said you usually go to extra meetings after difficult cases."

"I do," Andy confirmed on a nod.

"And," Rusty started tentatively when it became clear Andy would not add more to the conversation, "do they help?"

"They sure beat drinking myself into oblivion," Andy replied sarcastically, but then turned more serious and clarified. "Meetings do help. I don't always get the best advice," he made a face that added 'unfortunately', "and I am definitely not miraculously just over a case like this one, but it helps hearing other people's input, their experiences. It helps put things into perspective when I feel I can't do so myself or," he paused, looking intently at his fingers as he brushed them against the arm of his recliner, "when I need to think something through."

"And they also keep you from getting a drink instead," Rusty blurted out, his thoughts getting away from him before he could word them less accusatory.

Andy shrugged, neither confirming nor denying Rusty's words. "They certainly remind me that I have things that are worth a helluva lot more than a drunk night out and killer hangover the next morning."

A pang of sadness went through Rusty at that. He wished his mother would come to the same conclusion. He shifted on the spot so that he could tuck his legs beneath himself, and focused on his hands that he now let rest in his lap. "You make it sound so simple," he said, the disappointment obvious even to his own ears.

"It's a process, Rusty," Andy said gently, sensing where his thoughts had gone. "Sobriety isn't something you achieve overnight, and _maintaining_ it is certainly not something that happens on its own or without effort." He tilted his head to the side before almost pointedly adding, "And a lot of the time you also need a bit of help along the way."

"Like meetings?" Rusty asked, already knowing the answer.

For a split second, Andy was going to say 'or therapy', but that particular topic had not gone over well with Rusty the one time he had brought it up before, and considering the other thing he still needed to discuss with him, he decided to table it yet again. "Like meetings," he confirmed.

Rusty nodded to himself. "So," he said slowly and looked at Andy almost shyly, intent on repeating a question he had earlier posed to Provenza, "I don't have to worry about you falling off the wagon or something?"

Andy sighed, wishing he could offer the kid a more reassuring answer than the one he was about to give him. "That is something I can't answer," he said regretfully. "You don't have to worry about it tonight, that's for sure," he added on a faint smile, "but somewhere down the line?" He shrugged, silently answering his own question. "I can only say that I will keep on trying not to."

Rusty regarded Andy with a hard appraising look, as if deciding whether to believe him or not. He realized that this wasn't the first time Andy had told him this, but back then Rusty had been much too upset and hung up on something else entirely to really take note of it. Now, however, he heard him loud and clear. He rubbed his knee with the palm of his hand, and with a hint of finality said, "Okay." Perhaps Andy couldn't guarantee being sober forever, but Rusty found himself appreciating that he didn't attempt to make empty promises either. He had had enough of those to last him a lifetime.

Andy relaxed, not even noticing the tension that had built up in him. Offering Rusty a small smile, glad that seemed to be enough of a reassurance for the time being, he reiterated, "Okay."

"So," Rusty's tone of voice switched to one that announced a new topic, "what's that about?" He tilted his chin and indicated at the folder that lay on the coffee table.

Sighing, Andy leaned forward and reached for it. "That's news," he said, giving the file to Rusty instead of opening it himself.

"News?" Rusty repeated, taking the folder and pulling it apart to take a peek at its contents. "About what?" His eyes returned to Andy and he added, more worried than hopeful, "My mom?"

Deciding to just bite the bullet and get it out, Andy said, "It's about your paternal uncle."

Rusty immediately frowned, and fished out a paper out of the folder. "Uncle?" he repeated. His eyes going wide, he glanced back at Andy. " _Paternal_?" He swallowed. "As in _father_?"

"Yes," Andy confirmed. "Your uncle," his voice became strained for a second as he leaned over to pluck out a paper from the first slot of the folder, "Paul Dunn," he turned Rusty's attention to the paper, "has a criminal record. When the DA's office ran your DNA, they got a familial match on him. His brother," Andy leaned back, letting Rusty scan the information himself, "is likely to test out as your biological dad."

"Daniel Dunn," Rusty read the name of his presumed father distractedly.

"Yeah."

"Wow," was all Rusty was able to add, and from the wide-eyed look on his face, Andy gathered he was more than a tad overwhelmed by the news. He was still a little shell-shocked by it himself, and he had half a day to process it, so he couldn't fault Rusty for it.

"If he really does turn out to be your dad," Andy started tentatively, resting his elbow on his thigh as he leaned forward, closer to Rusty, "there's one thing you'll need to consider."

"I'd have to meet him, right?" Rusty interjected before Andy could say more. He was still looking intently at the paper in his lap.

"Well, I'm not sure if you would _have_ to," Andy tilted his head from side to side as he mulled that over, "but it would most certainly be something you would have to think about doing." His hand swirled around the air as he added, "Eventually."

Rusty finally looked at him. "My mom told me my dad died," he voiced the first thing that he could make out in the mess of jumbled thoughts that filled his head at Andy's revelation. "If he's alive, does that mean he doesn't know about me?" His speech became increasingly faster with each word. "Or did she tell him, but he didn't want to have anything to do with me?" His voice went up a little. "And if he didn't know about me, would he want to be part of my life now?" His eyes widened. "And if he would, would that mean, he'd become my parent," he waved a hand through the air, "you know, like, legally?" He sounded positively panicked at his next words. "What would that mean for my mom?"

"Whoa, hold your horses, Rusty," Andy said, pulling his hands up in a stopping gesture. He ignored the fact that some of those same thoughts had popped into his own head, and added, "You don't have to worry about any of that right now, okay? Just keep in mind that at some point, if he turns out to be your biological father, you will have to consider actually meeting him, and we'll take it from there."

Rusty fell quiet, but wasn't really listening to him. His mind continued to run a mile a minute. He had very limited knowledge about parental rights, but he was pretty sure that if this guy ended up being his biological father, he wouldn't have much of a choice but change homes again to live with him. He knew his set up with Andy was a temporary one, but just the other night they had talked about a heads-up should he have to move out. Was this his 30 days' notice?

"Rusty?"

Andy's voice snapped Rusty out of his increasingly disturbing musings, and he looked up to find Andy watching him with concerned eyes. Only then did his earlier words register. "Uh, yeah," he answered, nodding distractedly and tapping the folder against his knees. "You're right."

Rusty still looked worryingly distraught, so, trying to make the situation at least a little more easier on him, Andy said, "We don't have to discuss all of this right away, Rusty. How about you take a look at that file by yourself, and we can talk about it some more once you wrap your head around it? Say," he waved a hand at the kitchen, "tomorrow over breakfast?" He shrugged, looking at Rusty understandingly and sighed. "I know this is a lot to process, Kid."

"Uhm," Rusty's eyes landed on the name of his apparent father again, "that sounds like a plan." Abruptly, he got to his feet. "Do you mind if I call it a night then?"

Andy stood, too, confusion appearing on his face now. He was familiar with flight rather than fight sometimes being Rusty's coping mechanism, but he found himself at a loss for what to do. He didn't want to push Rusty any further than absolutely necessary, but he also didn't want to make him feel like it was all the same to him. "I don't mind at all," he finally decided to say. "But I'll be watching TV for a while," he added, "maybe clean up, too," he gestured at the floor over an eye roll, "so if you change your mind about that," he eyed the folder and shrugged, "I'll be here."

To Andy's surprise, it was the right thing to say, for Rusty suddenly took a deep breath, as if willing himself to calm down, and nodded. He spoke quietly, but sure of himself. "I know." He placed the two sheets of paper that were pulled out of the folder back inside, and started stammering, "I just, I mean," he rolled his eyes at himself and said lamely, "this is news."

Andy chuckled. "Yeah, Kid, it is, but we have options here, okay?" He rubbed a hand over the back of his head and tilting it from side to side, mumbled, "I'm not sure what exactly those are yet, but," his voice returned to normal and he caught Rusty's eye, wanting to make absolutely sure he was paying attention this time, "don't jump to any conclusions about this just yet, alright?"

"In other words," Rusty laughed mirthlessly, "don't freak out?"

Andy chuckled again, appreciating that Rusty was still able to be sarcastic, despite the circumstance. "Yeah, something like that."

In somewhat of a resignation, Rusty dropped his gaze on the folder, then barked out a short, in part nervous, part bitter laugh. "I think it might be a little late for that."

"Just sleep on it," Andy instructed on a shrug. Jokingly, he added, "We can freak out about it together then."

"Okay," Rusty agreed on a small smile, but the tilt of his head indicated he was far from looking forward to it. "Time to turn in then," he added, and Andy moved to the side, to let him walk past. Uncomfortably, and almost shyly, Rusty offered him another smile, and, slipping a hand into his pocket in another display of discomfort, mumbled, "Good night."

Andy nodded his head a slow, single time, watching as Rusty started his trek toward his room. "Good n-"

"Oh," Rusty suddenly cut him off, plucking his hand out of his pocket. He turned on his heel, his eyes set on his open palm where a single folded bill and a few coins rested. "I forgot to give the Lieutenant his change," he said, more to himself than Andy. "Or, well," his eyes snapped up to Andy's, and he reached his hand out, remembering it was Andy's money really, "I guess, you."

Andy's eyes grew wide, and he grinned almost obscenely. "There's change?" He had expected Provenza to spend his money down to the last cent. It would certainly not be the first time.

"Uhm," Rusty was not sure what to make of Andy's reaction, "yes," he answered, his eyebrow quirking up warily.

Andy's grin widened. "And you didn't give it to Provenza?"

"I forgot," Rusty said apologetically, "but here," he struck his hand out further and took the few steps back to Andy, "it's yours anyway."

"Oh, no, no," Andy said in a low amused rumble, and closed Rusty's open palm, pushing his hand away, "by all means, keep it." He barked out a laugh and added, "Ah, he's going to flip out when he realizes he made no money off this." He sounded entirely too gleeful.

Finally catching on to Andy's apparent amusement, Rusty shook his head. He knew better than to comment on the weirdness that was Andy's and Provenza's relationship again, so he said, "All the more reason you take it." A little more insistently, he struck his hand out again.

Andy crossed an arm over his chest and propped his other elbow on top of it to rub his fingers thoughtfully against his chin. "Nah," he decided, dropping his hand, "if I'm ever strapped for cash and you get stuck with Provenza again…" he trailed off on a shrug, then smirked. "Best you start saving up."

Dropping his money filled hand to his side, Rusty asked, "And when he remembers I forgot to give it to him?"

"We'll tell him he's getting forgetful in his old age," Andy said matter-of-factly before starting to chuckle. When Rusty just continued to stare at him, not the least bit impressed, waving a hand through the air, he added more seriously, "Don't worry about it," he rolled his eyes, "he'll be on my case about it, not yours."

Rusty hummed, considering Andy with narrowed eyes. "Alright," he awkwardly inspected the money again and stuffed it back into his pocket. "Emergency only, I guess."

Andy nodded, smirking again. "Precisely," he said, underlining the word with the point of his index finger.

"Then," Rusty looked at the folder he was clutching against his side, "uhm," he shifted on the spot, tightening his grip on it, "I'll go back to trying not to freak out over this."

His attempt to sound funny failed when his shoulders sagged a little, but Andy still smiled encouragingly. "Good night then," he told him.

"Night," Rusty mumbled back, then turned around to head for his room.

Andy watched until he disappeared from view. Taking a deep breath, the remnants of his earlier amusement completely evaporated, and he flopped into his recliner again. He had racked his brains all the way home about how to broach this subject with Rusty, and while he didn't think it went necessarily badly, he couldn't say it had gone well either. He reached for the remote on the coffee table in hopes of finding something mind-numbing to watch on the TV, but as he flicked through the channels, his thoughts kept reverting to Rusty, and more prominently to what his partner had said on the matter a few hours ago.

Ultimately, this could turn out to be a wonderful thing for Rusty, and as much he hated the idea of letting him go, because, yes, he had gotten more than a little attached to him, he would set aside his bias and do what was best for the boy.

Now, if only he could shake off this feeling that finding out what was best for Rusty won't be quite as straightforward as he hoped it would be.

-TBC-

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A/N: Please let us know if you liked the chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you all for the lovely reviews, your continual encouragement never ceases to amaze. It's just what we needed to help us keep on going... and we didn't even know it!

In an attempt to make up for the ridiculously long note we had at the beginning of our previous chapter, we shall keep this short and simply let you get to the next one.

We hope you will enjoy it.

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THE SAME, YET DIFFERENT - CHAPTER SIX

The moment Andy stepped into the murder room, laden with coffee and breakfast, his partner had pounced on him. "What the hell took you so long?" Provenza rose from his chair at a surprisingly quick speed for him, and practically yanked the two bags of pastries and bagels out of Andy's hands. "I am starving."

The sudden removal of the bags' weight had jostled Andy's hold on the stacked drink carriers, causing one of the cups to tilt to the side and he quickly moved to set them on Amy's desk before they all had a chance to topple over and spill onto the floor. He hissed when some of the hot liquid splashed onto his hand and shook it forcefully to relieve the burning sensation.

"Sorry, Sykes," he mumbled apologetically, when she leaned back to avoid getting splattered by the few drops being cast off in her direction. He gave her a quick glance over, making sure he had not inadvertently flung coffee on her as well before whirling around to glare at his partner. "I was only gone just over an hour!" He gave Amy a polite nod when she held out a handful of tissues for him, but continued to address his partner. "You should be thankful I even brought you breakfast." He vigorously wiped the coffee off his hands before glancing down his front to make sure none had spilled onto his clothing.

"You should be thankful I let you leave to take Rusty to school," Provenza walked over to stand in front of his partner, unceremoniously dropping the two bags onto Amy's desk, " _again."_ His eyes narrowed, conveying his usual thoughts on the matter without actually having to voice them.

Andy rolled his eyes. "You make it sound like I'm leaving work all the time to take care of the kid, when I've actually only asked to leave _twice._ " He held out two fingers, moving them in a scissoring motion right in front of Provenza's face. "Both times you took advantage and made me your personal errand boy."

Provenza swatted Andy's fingers away. "It's the least you can do for leaving the rest of us here to work while you're off gallivanting with your foster son."

"Yeah," Andy wiped at his hand one more time before finally wadding up the tissues and tossing them into the bin beneath Amy's desk, "because making sure Rusty gets a proper education constitutes as gallivanting."

"I'm just glad he's sending someone else besides me," Buzz piped up from where he was now standing behind the two squabbling Lieutenants, impatiently waiting to get ahold of his own coffee and bagel, "so thank you, Lieutenant Flynn."

"You're welcome, Buzz." Andy stepped aside, holding out his hand indicating for Buzz to move ahead and grab his take. "At least someone is grateful." He glowered at the back of his partner's head when Provenza scoffed and turned to take a seat at his own desk.

Once Buzz had moved out of the way, Andy picked up two of the cups, stacking the second one on top of the first so he could also grab a pastry, then quickly moved out of the way, allowing the rest of the team to help themselves to their own food and drink. He headed towards his desk, but only stopped at it long enough to drop off one of the coffee cups before walking through the open door of the Captain's empty office. With the restrictions that Taylor was putting on their investigation, there wasn't much for them to do while they waited for the school to open and she had left shortly before him to run by her own house. Expecting that she would be back any moment, he placed the cup along with the pastry on her desk and immediately exited out the way he came.

A comfortable silence had settled over the murder room as the team ate their breakfast and waited on the Captain to return. They didn't have to wait long before the sound of her heels could be heard coming down the hall from the elevators. Despite having just seen them, she offered a polite "Good morning" as she made her way to her office.

"Captain," Andy caught her attention as she passed behind his chair, "there's a tea and a danish on your desk for you."

"Oh," Sharon's eyes widened, "um," her surprised expression transformed into a small, appreciative smile, "thank you, Lieutenant."

Andy gave her a polite nod and turned back to computer so he could continue looking through his emails.

"Did you not get anything to eat, Sir?" Julio asked as he pulled of a piece of the bagel he held and popped it into his mouth. He had seen Andy grab a pastry, but only now noticed he never ate it.

"Well," Andy picked up his cup of coffee and leaned back in his chair, "Rusty actually made me breakfast when I texted him I was on my way to pick him up, so, "a wide smile stretched across his lips, "I already ate."

Everyone turned to look at Andy in surprise, but it was Buzz who voiced what they were all thinking. "That's unexpected."

"Yea," Provenza agreed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, "are you sure it wasn't laced with poison?"

"Ha," Tao barked out a laugh. When Andy turned his glare from his partner to him, Mike defensively held up his hands. "There's been ample time for a poison to take effect, and considering that you're still here with us and," his speech slowed as he leaned forward and scrutinized Andy from the waist up, "you don't seem to be showing any obvious symptoms," he sat up straight with a smile, now confident in his assessment, "you're probably safe."

"Unless Rusty is planning to slowly kill him over time," Amy chimed in a little too cheerfully.

"Aha!" Provenza smacked the top of his desk. "For once, young Sykes is actually right." He wiggled a finger in the young detective's direction. "If Rusty offers to cook for you more often," he redirected his finger so he was now pointing at Andy, "I'd be _very_ suspicious if I were you, Flynn."

Quiet chuckles from everyone filtered through the room. The antics of the older Lieutenants were always entertaining, and it seemed ever since Andy had taken Rusty in, Provenza had begun harassing his partner even more than usual.

"Ha, ha." Andy mock laughed. "You guys are so funny. Actually," he said very pointedly, "I think this whole business with his biological father has him spooked." He looked down and fidgeted with tie, straightening and smoothing imaginary wrinkles. "I think he's afraid I want him to leave, so he's trying to prove that he can be useful or something."

The lighthearted mood of the room was significantly subdued by the expression on Andy's face and the solemn tone in which he had spoken. Despite all the trouble Rusty had given him from the start, and even though Andy had complained several times about the boy's poor attitude, everyone knew they had both become rather fond of each other.

"I'm sure that Rusty knows you're not trying to get rid of him, Sir," Julio offered up reassuringly and most everyone nodded in agreement.

Andy looked up when Sharon exited her office with her tea in hand, and stopped next to him. She didn't say anything, but the sympathetic smile she offered him let Andy know she had heard the majority of their conversation and she agreed with Julio.

Andy's gaze dropped down to where his hands rested on his desk top. "Yea, maybe."

After their talk over breakfast, Andy wasn't completely sure he had assuaged Rusty's doubts about being welcome in his home. As if that wasn't enough to have him worried, there were other concerns that the kid had brought up during their conversation that added to Andy's distractions.

 _When Andy walked through his front door, rather than placing his keys in their usual place across from the door, he pocketed them and briskly walked down the hall towards the kitchen. Even though there wasn't much for them to do with the investigation at the moment, he hated leaving while everyone else stayed and worked, but he also hated to rely so heavily on the officers now that Rusty was out of emergency care. Either way, he felt he was taking advantage not only of the Captain's and team's understanding when they agreed without hesitation to let him leave, but also of Rusty's status as a witness when he requested for patrol to transport him to and from school. The situation definitely bolstered Rusty's argument to get his license, but Andy currently had too much else to focus on to give it any actual thought._

" _We still have about ten minutes until we need to leave," Andy called out as he approached the threshold to the main rooms, "but are you ready?"_

" _Uh," Rusty turned from where he was standing at the stove, a pan and spatula in hand, "I made us some breakfast." He smiled at Andy nervously._

" _Us?" Andy repeated, a perplexed expression on his face. He looked to his right and sure enough, there were two places set at the dining table._

" _Well, yeah," Rusty shrugged and moved towards the table, "I thought you might be hungry after working all night."_

 _Still thrown off guard by the unexpected gesture, Andy's voice was uncertain when he said, "Oh, okay," as he made his way to his usual chair and pulled it out before sitting, then added, "we still have some time I guess." He looked up as he scooted his chair forward to find Rusty looking at him apprehensively, and he realized that his confused response probably wasn't very encouraging. "Thanks, Kid," he said appreciatively and smiled widely, "I had no idea you could cook."_

 _Some of the tension left Rusty's body on a quiet exhale. "Other than breakfast and some things out of a box," he scooped a serving for each of them onto the plates, then moved to place the pan back on the stove, "I don't really know how to cook."_

" _Either way, it looks and smells great." Andy picked up the fork that was sitting next to his plate and speared a portion of the omelet. "I'm sure it tastes great, too," he said as he lifted the fork to his mouth and took a bite. "Mm-hm." He_ _emphatically nodded his head, indicating it was in fact delicious._

 _Rusty smiled, pleased that Andy seemed to like it. "If you don't have to leave early for a case," he took his own seat across the table, "I can cook you breakfast more often, if you'd like." He glanced towards the kitchen at the small mess he had left on the counters and stove. "And I promise to clean everything up afterwards."_

 _Andy wanted to comment on how great that would be and that he could even do the dishes if Rusty was the one to cook, but the red file sitting on the table directly in between them halted the words from coming out of his mouth. The implications of that file left him feeling like they were in limbo, and he was afraid to make any concrete plans with the kid until he knew for sure what was going to happen. So instead of saying what he wanted, Andy simply said, "We'll see," and he knew the smile he forced to form appeared as just that._

" _Okay." Rusty's shoulders slumped, not understanding why Andy seemed to be so reluctant._

 _Deciding they couldn't put the conversation off any longer, Andy tapped the folder with the prongs of his fork. "What do you think about this now that you've had time to process it?"_

" _I don't know." Rusty said quietly, unable to look the other man in the eye for fear his disappointment would show. He now understood why his offer to make breakfast was brushed aside–Andy was hoping he would be moving out soon. "Nothing in there really tells me anything about the guy so I looked him up online," he scoffed, "but that didn't do me a lot of good. The only thing I learned is that what little my mom told me about him was a lie," he rolled his eyes, seeming to be unsurprised by that fact, "and he's moved around a lot. So," his shoulders lifted, then heavily dropped back down again, "I'm not exactly sure what to think yet."_

" _Yea," Andy took another large bite of food and chewed thoughtfully before adding, "that really doesn't give you much to base an opinion on."_

" _Exactly." He took the side of his fork and began cutting up his food into small bites. "What if he's an asshole or he's into drugs?" He winced when he pressed down too hard and the fork created a screeching noise against the plate. "His brother clearly is." There was no mistaking the disgust in his tone._

" _Rusty," Andy said on a sigh, "you can't judge a person based on the actions of someone else. Just because his brother has made some poor decisions, doesn't mean he has."_

 _Rusty dropped his fork onto his plate and slumped back against the chair. "How am I supposed to form an opinion if I can't find out anything about him?" He was quiet for a moment as he fiddled with the edge of the placemat, then he looked up at Andy through his lashes and tentatively asked, "Can't you look him up for me at work?"_

 _Andy shook his head. "Not without him being under investigation," he smiled cheekily, "and you not being able to find anything about him online does not constitute a crime." His smirk faltered when Rusty gave him a look that said he didn't find his pathetic joke funny and he turned serious again. "However," he took a deep breath and ran his thumbnail across one of his eyebrows, "I may know someone that could help us out. Let me see what I can do."_

" _Good," Rusty reached out and ran a finger along the edge of the file, "because right now I have no desire to meet this guy," with a flick of his hand, he slid the folder closer to Andy, "and he obviously doesn't want to know me seeing as how he never once tried to be in my life."_

" _You just said everything your mom told you about him was a lie," Andy paused to wash down his food with the juice that was provided for him, "there's a good chance she lied to him as well or maybe even never told him about you."_

 _Rusty conceded the point with a tilt of his head, but he wasn't willing to completely give in to Andy's logic just yet. "She also doesn't have a very good track record with boyfriends," a sneer turned up one corner of his mouth, "so that doesn't leave me very optimistic."_

" _Look, Kid," Andy laid his fork down on his now empty plate, "this decision is yours to make, but until we get more information, I think you should keep an open mind about all of this. He's not just some random stranger, he's technically your family."_

" _For someone who doesn't even talk to his own family," Rusty's tone was flippant, matching the eyeroll he delivered, "you sure are being persistent that I meet mine."_

" _First off," Andy used the available napkin to wipe off his mouth, then haphazardly tossed it onto his plate, "the two situations are not the same. This," he slapped a hand down on the folder, "is family you didn't even know about. Secondly," he pointed a finger at Rusty, "I do talk to my kids."_

" _When?" Rusty scoffed. "I've lived with you for about a month now, and in that time," he used his fingers to tick off points, "they've never been here, you've never left to see them, and you never talk about them except to say 'things are complicated'."_

 _Andy threw his hands up in exasperation and practically shouted, "That's because they_ are _complicated!" He drew in a deep breath, and quickly huffed it back out. This time when he spoke his tone was calm and even. "As you very well know," he paused and his eyes narrowed on Rusty, "work keeps me very busy, so I don't get a lot of time to see them." The regret he felt about that reality was evident by the pained expression that briefly flitted across his face. "But I have talked to them on the phone. It's just that right now," he paused to clear his throat, "they don't really want to see me," he shifted his gaze so that he was no longer looking Rusty in the eye, but at the wall behind him, "particularly Nathan."_

" _Why don't they want to see you right n-?" Rusty stopped mid-sentence and his eyes widened when realization dawned on him. "It's me, isn't it?"_

" _No," Andy responded forcefully, "my issues with my kids have nothing," he sliced the air with his hand, "_ nothing," _he repeated the word with more emphasis, "to do with you."_

" _Do they know I'm living with you?" Rusty couldn't believe that his kids wouldn't have an issue and that lead him to think maybe they didn't know. It would also explain why they hadn't stopped by for a visit._

 _Andy's brow furrowed with confusion. He didn't know what would cause the kid to ask such a question. "You're not a secret, Rusty, of course they do."_

 _There was more than a small amount of suspicion in Rusty's voice when he asked, "And you're telling me they have no problem with it?"_

" _Like I said," Andy said slowly, trying to tamp down his frustration, "their problem is with me."_

 _What Andy wasn't going to tell Rusty was that his kids hadn't taken the news of him becoming a foster parent too well at all. Nicole had questioned if he was suitable for the job, and Nathan had accused him of using Rusty as a replacement since he failed so miserably the first time. Their words stung, but he understood where they were coming from. Nicole had always been more forgiving, but at the same time she was hesitant to completely trust him. Nathan's initial response was either to lash out or to avoid him altogether, both of which Andy understood all too well. He didn't feel it was necessary to tell Rusty what they had said because it would only create doubts about him being welcome. Besides, Andy knew it wasn't about Rusty at all, but about his own failings as their father, and sending the kid away wouldn't magically fix that issue._

 _It didn't go past Rusty's notice that Andy didn't deny that his kids had a problem with his presence, but he also recognized when someone put a wall up and a topic was closed for discussion; they had reached that point. Deciding to table it for a later time, he simply responded, "If you say so."_

" _I do," Andy said with finality. "Hurry up and eat, we have to leave in," he glanced at his watch and noticed they were quickly running out of time, "two minutes."_

 _Andy rolled his eyes when Rusty began to quickly shovel the food in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing each bite. Rising from his chair, he grabbed his dishes and took them to the kitchen to load them in the dishwasher. Their conversation had gone in a completely different direction than he had anticipated, and he knew Rusty was still suspicious about his kids, but it would have to be pushed to the back burner as well while they figured out this business with Rusty's biological father. Andy knew what he needed to do to get the wanted information for Rusty, but a huge part of him was reluctant to do it. He found himself wishing it would all just go away._

While none of it went away, Andy did find a slight distraction in the form of his team's latest case. Still, his thoughts wandered back toward Rusty and his biological father often and noticeably enough for Provenza to decide to prod a little. He doubted he would find out much, seeing as the rest of the team was at their desks working on various angles of the case, and he himself was about to pay the coach a visit with his Captain, but he had a few spare minutes while she took care of a phone call, so he figured he give it a try anyway.

The question "Are you brooding?" was Provenza's way of bringing up the topic.

An instant frown on his face, Andy turned in his chair and scowled at his partner. "Brooding?" he asked, the calm manner in which he spoke at odds with the expression he pinned the man with.

Provenza shrugged. "Rusty," he said, the name effectively summing up his actual question.

"I'm not brooding," Andy grumbled on an eye roll and grabbed the edges of his desk to push himself and his chair underneath it again. Once his back, or really his shoulder, was purposefully turned toward Provenza's face, he added quietly, "I'm worrying."

Provenza glanced through the blinds into the Captain's office and, finding no indication that she would be done any time soon, decided to pry some more and returned his gaze to Andy. "Kid decide what to do about Dunn yet?"

"No," Andy said on a sigh, ignoring the obvious manner in which the team shifted on their spots and failed to mask that they were in fact listening in on their conversation. "He wants more information about him before he makes his decision."

"Well then," Provenza waved a hand at him as if urging him to get moving right away, "start digging."

Andy gritted his teeth. "It's not that simple."

"Is anything ever simple?" Provenza drawled sarcastically. "I know," he narrowed his eyes at him, "that you have a contact at DCFS who can dig all that up for you, so stop procrastinating and do what the kid asked you to!"

"I'm not procrastinating," Andy said defensively, flattening his palms over his desk and hooking his thumbs underneath the edge until it dug into the flap of skin between his thumb and index finger. "I just don't know what I think will be worse," he tightened his grip on the desk, almost welcoming the slight sting that accompanied the added pressure to the crook of his thumb, "finding out information that will make Rusty want to go with him, or stay with me."

Ignoring Andy's torn demeanor, Provenza said, "Well then, it's a good thing it's not your decision, but Rusty's." When Andy shot him an indignant look, he didn't back off, but pressed on. "You're dragging your feet, Flynn." He waved his index finger at him. "I know you're worried about the kid, but the sooner you look into this Dunn guy, the sooner you and Rusty can figure out what to do about him."

Andy sighed, releasing the hold on his desk and slumping in his chair. "I know, I know, I'm gonna reach out to that DCFS lady I know." As if about to do so right away, he took his phone and started searching for the woman's number, but his thumb was really only absentmindedly scrolling down his list of contacts as he added, "Am I awful for wanting him to stay?"

He sounded so dejected that Provenza's first response was a heavy, sympathetic sigh. "No," he gave the team a cursory glance and, although none of them were looking in their direction, that they were in agreement with him was clearly etched into their faces, "you're just a sappy, old idiot."

Andy half scoffed, half laughed, nodding his head and staring at the finally procured number without quite seeing it. "It's just that," he sighed and turned fully toward his partner again, "if he leaves, even if this guy is father of the damn century," his hold on his phone unintentionally tightened for a moment and he made a wild circle through the air with it, "I can't make sure Rusty's okay, and I really want him to be okay."

"Andy," Provenza put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, but his next words were nowhere as supportive as the gesture, "just pull your head out of your ass." He straightened and let go of Andy's shoulder. "Digging up as much as you can about the guy _is_ how you make sure he's okay if he ends up in his father's custody."

Andy nodded slowly and dropped his gaze on his phone. "I just hope whatever she finds out doesn't end up hurting Rusty."

Provenza sneaked another glance into Sharon's office and found her hanging up the phone. "Well," he started with a note of finality, "remaining in the dark about him might end up hurting him, too."

Andy's face fell and, resigned to what he really could no longer put off, he nodded. "I know."

"Then you also know what you have to do," Provenza concluded, taking a step back from Andy's desk.

"Pull my head out of my ass," Andy grumbled, and the words coincided with Sharon opening her door and stepping out of her office. Her both surprised and intrigued expression let them know she had caught his words, but Andy did not allow her to even consider prying because he got to his feet and tilted his phone toward Provenza. "I'm gonna go take care of it then."

Provenza made a swooping gesture, letting him walk past him toward the break room, then addressed his Captain. "Ready to go?" The question was laced with exaggerated impatience.

Sharon smiled, amused, then almost mimicked Provenza's earlier swoop of his hand. "Lead the way, Lieutenant."

Before doing precisely that, Provenza shot a glare his team's way, and barked, "Don't you all have work to do?" When they all startled and quickly refocused on their computers, he smirked and made his way to the murder room's exit.

The two walked in silence until stepping onto the elevator, when Sharon said, "I take it no decision has been made yet regarding the matter of Mr. Dunn."

Provenza punched the button for the ground floor and took his place next to Sharon, shooting her a suspicious look as he considered her intentions. Deciding to give her the benefit of the doubt, but sounding exasperated, he answered, "They are still collecting evidence."

Sharon looked at him, seeming genuinely concerned. "Lieutenant Flynn seems on edge."

Provenza suddenly chuckled. "You mean he's being more irritating than usual."

The blunt way in which he said his words drew a small smile out of Sharon, but she replied somberly. "I hope he's not losing perspective here." She tilted her head a little and offered Provenza a look over the rim of her glasses that added, 'Is he?'

"No," Provenza said resolutely, shaking his head. "He's just struggling to do what's best for Rusty without-"

"Hurting Rusty in the process," Sharon interjected on a slow knowing nod of her head.

Provenza humphed. "Something like that."

"Collecting evidence," Sharon suddenly repeated, her eyes widening a little. "Legally, I hope," she added in warning.

Provenza scoffed, ignoring the officer stepping onto the elevator as it halted on the third floor. "Yes," he told her, rolling his eyes, "legally."

She gave him a slightly disdainful look, but nodded. "As long as I don't have to worry about you two getting into trouble," she trailed off on a shrug.

Again, Provenza eyed her suspiciously, wanting to feel annoyed with her and her implication, but the slight twitch of her lips as she kept her gaze fixed on the back of the officer who had joined them, made him decide she was in fact cracking a joke. "No need to worry, Captain," he straightened and focused on the numbers counting down, making a purposeful pause and fighting the urge to openly smirk at her before adding, "this is all Flynn's mess." He tugged on the lapels of his jacket, smoothing them out, and added, "And his mess alone."

Sharon pursed her lips, obviously fighting to keep a straight face. "For now."

Offended, Provenza tore his eyes off the numbers and scowled at her, his reaction drawing a soft, amused laugh out of her. As he sputtered for a response, most likely an accusatory 'What's that supposed to mean?' the doors pinged open at their floor. Sharon raised an expectant eyebrow at him, actually looking forward to it, but when the response never came, she fished her car keys out of her purse, jingled them loudly, knowing it would rile him up just a little bit more, and already casually walking out of the elevator, added, "I'm driving."

. . .

Rusty sat quietly in the passenger seat, deep in thought, as they drove to the hospital to visit Amy. Andy had offered to drop him off at home, but he had asked to tag along instead, wanting to see how well she was doing for himself. Until then, he had never really considered just how dangerous their job could be, and now there was a worry that had settled in his gut thinking about what could happen to Andy. He had never felt concern like this for someone other than his mom and he wasn't exactly sure how to feel about it. Rusty internally berated himself for even caring when he was no longer sure if Andy returned the sentiment. Their discussion over breakfast had left him feeling uncertain.

Rusty finally felt content, and almost happy in a way, for the first time in longer than he could remember, but this business with his biological father was messing everything up. Andy had said the decision on whether or not to meet this Daniel Dunn was up to him, but he was also very insistent that he keep an open mind. The file that DCFS sent over did provide him with a little more information—he had never been arrested and didn't seem to be involved with drugs, he always held a steady job even when he moved, and his parents were still alive and he also had a sister—but none of it was enticing enough for him to actually want to meet the guy. He had gone this long without ever knowing him, and didn't see why he should change that, but he wasn't so sure anymore if the decision really was up to him.

He thrummed his fingers across the top of the file and noted that for about the tenth time since they had gotten in the car, Andy's gaze briefly flickered down to where it sat in his lap before returning back to the road. It was obvious he was eager to know what Rusty had decided, but was practicing some self-restraint for once and not pushing for answers. The behavior was odd for Andy, and also another reason why he was so confused. Rusty didn't know if Andy's eagerness was due to wanting him to leave, or if like him, he just wanted to put this all behind them. There was really only one way to find out, and he knew putting off asking the hard questions wouldn't make it any easier.

"So," Rusty paused to clear his throat when his voice came out scratchy, "are you wanting me to go live with my biological father so I will be out of your hair?"

"What?" Andy's head whipped around to look at Rusty and in the process, he unintentionally lifted his foot off the accelerator, causing the car behind him to honk. Pressing down his foot again, he turned his focus back on the road, and in a more calm tone asked, "Why would you say something like that?"

"I thought things were going good between us," Rusty shrugged, "but this morning at breakfast you didn't seem too keen on the idea of me making you breakfast, and you're insistent that I," his tone dropped to mimic Andy's as best he could, "keep an 'open mind' about meeting him," he looked down to where his fingers were now twiddling with the corners of the pages in the file, "and there's the whole issue with your kids."

"I already told you," Andy said, exasperated that the topic was being brought up again, "that my issues with Nathan and Nicole have nothing to do with you," his grip on the steering wheel tightened so much that his knuckles were turning white, "so stop thinking that."

"Okay, fine." Rusty shook his head and turned to look out the window. He still didn't think Andy was being completely truthful about his kids, but again it wasn't the time to push. "It still feels like you're pushing me out the door to go live with him. I just think," he said matter-of-factly, "it would make this easier if you were honest about how you feel."

Andy's jaw clamped down tightly and he spoke through gritted teeth, "I'm actually trying to _not_ let my personal feelings influence my ability to do what's best for you."

He wasn't frustrated with Rusty, but with himself and his partner. Provenza's voice telling him to 'pull his head out of his ass' was at the forefront of his mind, tamping down all of his initial thoughts and reminding him that what worked best for him was not necessarily what was best for Rusty.

"So you think living with my dad would be best?" Rusty asked, a mixture of concern and surprise in his tone.

Andy's head dropped back against the headrest with a hard thump. "I honestly don't know." When they came to a stop light, he rolled his head to look at Rusty. "But I do know that keeping something from you just because I don't like it," he shook his head, "that isn't right."

Rusty sighed heavily and nodded once in agreement. "Yeah." Even if this was turning out to be a huge mess, he was at the very least grateful that Andy was upfront about the situation and didn't try keeping anything from him.

"Look, Kid." There was an extended pause as Andy waited until he pulled into the hospital parking lot and found a spot before shifting in his seat to look directly at Rusty. "Things _are_ going really good for us," he said sincerely, finally addressing Rusty's earlier comment. "I've actually enjoyed having you around." He gave Rusty's shoulder a playful nudge and was pleased when it earned him a small smile in return. "All joking aside," Andy's face and tone turned somber again, "I'm trying to remain objective and that's, uh," he anxiously ran a hand over the back of his neck, "really hard." He smiled meekly, letting Rusty know he hadn't been very successful. "However, even though this isn't my decision to make, I don't think it's one that should be made lightly."

"I have given it a lot of thought," Rusty assured him, "and I've already made my decision."

"Okay," Andy said slowly and looked at Rusty expectantly, indicating for him to continue.

"I don't want to meet him," Rusty said resolutely, leaving no doubt that his mind was made up. "I've gone this long without knowing him and I don't feel the need to change that. So if it's okay with you," he nervously brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen in his face, "I'd like to keep things the way they are."

"As long as you're sure that's what you want," Andy searched Rusty's face, looking for any signs of doubt and finding none, "then I'm okay with it."

"I'm sure." As if to prove his point, Rusty picked up the file and dropped it into the backseat.

Andy was unable to keep the wide smile from breaking across his face. The brief thought that perhaps he was allowing Rusty to rush to this decision had crossed his mind, but his relief that the kid wanted to stay quickly pushed it aside.

"Then that's settled." Not wanting the mood to become too heavy, or allow time for Rusty to suddenly change his mind, Andy jerked his head towards the hospital. "Shall we?"

…

They met up with the rest of the team in front of the hospital before making their way to Amy's floor. The nurse had allowed them all inside only under heavy protest, but they were all successfully huddled around Amy's bed, chatting away merrily, glad that her injuries weren't as bad as they could have been. Andy had lingered behind the group, not in the mood for squeezing in between Rusty and his partner, but he occasionally craned his neck to look over his colleagues' heads and to chip in on the conversation with the youngest addition to their team. Amy's injured jaw prevented her from talking, so the team took it upon themselves to entertain her with stories of their own. He was smiling a little, watching Rusty's horrified face at Julio's recap of all the injuries he had gotten over the years in the line of duty. To hear Julio tell the story of his most recent rendezvous with bullets, it wasn't a big deal, but Andy could still vividly remember just how worried they all were the last time Julio got shot, and not just because the occasion was marked by Provenza running.

Andy didn't ordinarily ruminate on the perils of his job, but moments like these inevitably brought up the usual eye opening about just how dangerous their profession could get. He always thought of his kids in moments like these, and now, as he watched Rusty, he realized he was thinking about him, too. It was a bitter truth that his children would be okay if something ever happened to him, and not just because his relationship with them was strained and fragile. Unlike Rusty, they were adults, standing firmly on their own two feet. They didn't _need_ him. However, Rusty, although he would never admit it, did. Without him, Rusty would be thrown back into the system, and considering the kid was just now settling in with him, Andy wasn't optimistic about how long it would take for him to settle in again somewhere else, or if he ever would.

He was brought out of his musings when his Captain, who had apparently had the same idea about crowding Amy's bed, and remained just behind everyone alongside him, quietly asked, "How is Rusty?" Like Andy, she was watching Rusty's reactions to Julio's story and wearing a slight bemused smile.

"Well," Andy said, his chest briefly expanding then deflating as he let out a long sigh, "that file I received earlier is everything my contact at DCFS could dig up about Daniel Dunn."

"And?" Sharon prodded, raising both eyebrows at him.

"And whatever's in it," Andy shrugged, "made Rusty decide he doesn't wanna meet his biological father."

Sharon hummed contemplatively. "And what have _you_ decided to do about Daniel Dunn?"

Andy looked at her, his expression saying that what he would do was pretty obvious. "Try to heed Rusty's wishes," he finally answered, his tone of voice, however, more questioning, than definitive.

Sharon couldn't formulate a response to that because Andy was suddenly pulled into the conversation going on in front of them. "Lieutenant Flynn," Julio, said, waving a hand at Andy, "got stabbed not so long ago actually."

"You were stabbed?" Rusty asked, his eyes scanning over Andy's form as if he might spot a still open wound somewhere.

Andy frowned momentarily at Julio, who was standing at the foot of Amy's bed. He didn't like rehashing that, but shrugged it off for Rusty's benefit. "Hurt like a bitch," he said humorously.

Provenza chipped in, smirking, "Made him equally irritable, too."

Rusty chuckled at that, especially when Andy shot his partner an indignant look. He was familiar with Andy's moods enough to easily picture how grouchy he must have been while in pain.

"The Captain actually worked that case," Julio added, putting up a finger as if only just then remembering that particular detail.

Rusty gave her a confused look. "I thought you were in IA."

Sharon clasped her hands in front of herself and nodded. "It was an officer involved incident." She slanted Andy a quick look. "Lieutenant Flynn actually called me to the scene himself."

"One of his brighter ideas." Provenza rolled his eyes. "Soon after that the Captain started shadowing our team," his next words verged on a groan, "for months."

At that Sharon smiled, the look in her eyes almost devious. "Which is what happens when officers refuse to," she paused purposefully, turning sideways to give Provenza a proper pointed look, "follow regulation."

Provenza opened his mouth, most likely to offer his own definition of regulation, but Andy cut him off. He had bristled at her words, feeling personally attacked even though they were anything but accusatory of him. "You investigated _me_ on that case!" he exclaimed, pointing at himself, offended.

Sharon smiled again, a certain amount of smugness about her—clearly she was on her turf here and it would take a lot more than one of Andy's temperamental outbursts to make her second guess herself. "Which was _me_ following regulation." She shrugged a single shoulder, not in the least worried whether they agreed with her or not.

Julio snickered when Andy dropped his hand and slumped his shoulders, staring at Sharon in disbelief, his mouth agape. "If memory serves," he smirked at Andy, thoroughly enjoying riling the man up, "the Captain also _cleared_ you on that case, Lieutenant."

Sharon smiled rather victoriously at that, even more so when Andy frowned and grumbled a defeated "Yeah," under his breath.

Rusty found this almost as enjoyable as Julio and was looking at Andy with renewed interest. "Troublemaker much?" he teased, his voice trembling with suppressed laughter.

Andy just groaned in response, knowing he and his temper had pretty much set him up for this, but he still couldn't believe what turn the conversation had taken. It didn't help that everybody laughed at him again, too, but this time he wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. Even Amy managed a laugh when he did exactly that, but it was quickly followed by a pained moan. At the apologetic looks thrown her way, she rolled her eyes and waved them off.

Sharon turned her attention back to Rusty then, wanting to elaborate a little when it became clear Andy had no intention of doing so himself. "He was supposed to be on bedrest when he left the hospital, instead he came into work." Her tone revealed she was still very much displeased by the fact.

"You know he must've been in pretty bad shape," Buzz piped up from the other side of Amy's bed, "when even Chief Johnson agreed with the Captain and ordered him to go home." When Andy scowled at him, it earned him another round of chuckles, and Buzz just shrugged as if saying, 'What? You know it's true.'

Ignoring them, Sharon smiled and addressed the bedridden Amy, her tone suddenly quite serious. "I assume I will not have a similar issue with you, Detective?" She punctuated her question with an intimidating raise of an eyebrow.

There was an amused spark in the look Amy threw her Captain, but not intending, and possibly not daring either, to disobey her, she quickly, albeit carefully, shook her head.

Sharon offered a curt nod, her smile widening fractionally. "Good."

They did not stay much longer with Amy after that. They knew she needed to get some rest, so when the nurse came in a few minutes later and practically kicked them out, they left willingly, but on promises to check in on her again before she was released to go home.

Andy and Rusty's drive home was spent in a silence that felt rather heavy, so, worried about what might be going through Rusty's head, Andy eventually asked, "You okay there?" He tilted his head towards Rusty, but kept his eyes firmly on the road.

"Detective Sykes was beaten up pretty badly," Rusty said, sounding both astonished and horrified.

"You should see the other guy," Andy deadpanned, but when Rusty remained quiet, he slanted a quick look his way, and more seriously said, "She'll be okay. She'll be back to annoy Provenza in no time."

Rusty finally chuckled. "Actually," he paused to look at Andy, "next to the Captain, he seemed most worried about her."

Andy nodded a couple of times, then shrugged, throwing Rusty an amused look. "That would be because he was."

"I thought he didn't like Sykes?" Rusty asked, frowning in confusion.

"He doesn't like me either, Kid," Andy said pointedly.

"Oh," Rusty let out in realization, then on a laugh concluded, "your partner's weird."

Andy laughed, too, but answered on almost a groan. "Oh, don't I know it."

Even though Rusty chuckled again, they again lapsed into a loaded silence. Andy had a feeling he knew where Rusty's thoughts had taken him, but at the same time he wasn't quite sure he dared believing that Amy's injuries indeed had Rusty worried about something potentially happening to him in the line of duty. Not really wanting to prove himself either right or wrong, especially not with Daniel Dunn still looming in the shadows, he decided not to pry. However, just as he was pulling his car into his usual parking space in his building, Rusty suddenly said, "Do you ever worry about getting injured on the job?"

Andy almost smiled, part of him wanting to pump his fist in victory because maybe Rusty did care about him more than he let on. In an attempt to clamp down on that feeling, he took a second to turn off the engine instead. He retrieved his keys from the ignition and pocketed them before turning slightly in his seat to face Rusty. "Sometimes," he replied honestly, tilting his head from side to side contemplatively, "but mostly only when things like today happen. In this profession, lingering on these types of scenarios can be paralyzing, so we tend not to."

Rusty dropped his gaze to his lap, and started tugging at the hem of his shirt. "I never really thought about it," he said quietly.

"And now?" Andy prodded, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Rusty gave him an almost timid look and unbuckled his own seatbelt. "A little."

Andy smiled and asked, teasingly, "You're not worried about me, are you?"

Rusty's eyes went wide, and Andy wanted to both grin and groan as he realized that he had caught the kid entertaining thoughts he clearly did not know what to do with just yet. Covering up his thoughts in annoyance, Rusty said, "Well, I'm not a monster." He rolled his eyes. "I obviously don't want anything to happen to you. I could also," a devious smile curled his lips suddenly, "do without the pain of breaking in a new foster parent if something ever did."

Andy chuckled. "Break in, huh?" he repeated, amused and a tad proud that Rusty felt comfortable enough to joke this way. When Rusty's smile widened, he went on to exaggerate his heartfelt gratitude by briefly clutching his chest. "I appreciate the concern then." He reached for the door handle, preparing to exit his car, and added sarcastically, "And I will do my best to spare you from having to break in anyone else."

Rusty barked out a laugh. "Thank you," he said, before quickly collecting his things, including the file on Daniel Dunn he had thrown in the backseat earlier, and following Andy out of the car.

With the tension of the day broken, they proceeded to have a fairly relaxed, quiet dinner and remainder of the evening, but once he turned in, Andy remained awake, unable to help but give the dangers of his job some more thought. Should something, God forbid, happen to him, he assumed the team would step up and make sure Rusty would be alright, even if he got thrown back smack in the middle of the fostering system. However, that was little consolation, because what bothered Andy most about it was that _he_ wouldn't be there to have the kid's back.

He buried his head in his pillow on a groan as he let that sink in. Maybe Rusty wasn't going to admit it any time soon, perhaps he didn't even feel the same way, but there was no denying that Andy's investment in his well-being had reached the permanent stage. Being Rusty's foster parent no longer felt enough. He wanted to be able to make decisions on the boy's behalf without having to clear everything with DCFS. He wanted to be able to make long-lasting decisions that would benefit Rusty even in the unlikely event that something did happen in his line of duty. The only way of achieving that that he could think of was to apply for legal guardianship, thus taking fostering a step further, but the instant the idea crossed his mind, all the possible obstacles in the way of that popped into it as well.

Daniel Dunn was actually low on that list of obstacles. While his own personal issues ranked high among the reasons why nobody in their right mind should allow him to assume legal guardianship over somebody, it was Rusty himself who topped them. Despite them getting along extremely well lately, Andy wasn't sure Rusty would even want him in that capacity, and if there was one thing he would not do, it was go against Rusty's wishes. What also worried him was that the mere mention of it could spook and overwhelm Rusty, or worse, make him think Andy was trying to legally expunge both of his parents from his life for good.

Andy rolled onto his side and rubbed a hand over his face, as if trying to physically wipe off those thoughts. He was getting ahead of himself. They both still needed to handle Daniel Dunn first, make absolutely sure that Rusty's decision was enough to make the problem go away. He was having a hard time remaining objective as was, fantasizing of ways to make his and Rusty's current arrangement more permanent before being completely certain that his biological father was out of the picture would make it all the more difficult.

Not for the first time that day, Andy wished it would all just go away so he and Rusty could return to their oddly normal co-existence.

-TBC-

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A/N: As always, we would love to know what you all think. Please leave us a review!


	7. Chapter 7

In this chapter we have the least number of original scenes, and so the scenes we took to rewriting had been even more challenging to write than usual. We have focused on the fact that not the same characters are pertinent to the scenes, and have tried our best to let the characteristics of Andy in particular give these scenes a different perspective. It became an interesting exploration of determining what remained the same, and what became different (haha, get it? XD). The following chapter is the result of that exploration and we are eager to hear what you think of it.

We would also like to take a moment to thank you all for the continued reviews, particularly from the guests we cannot personally message, favorites and follows. It is such a delight to receive them with each new chapter!

Without further ado, please enjoy!

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THE SAME, YET DIFFERENT - CHAPTER SEVEN

"Thank you, Cynthia," Sharon intervened just as Andy lifted a finger in preparation to say something he would likely regret, "we can take it from here." She gave him a look of warning before fully turning to Cynthia with a reassuring smile.

Cynthia looked back and forth between the two detectives, trying to determine if it was best for her to leave or not. "Alright then," she said hesitantly while adjusting her purse strap so that it was more firmly on her shoulder, "just call me if you have any questions or concerns." She waited for the answering nod from both Sharon and Andy before finally taking her leave.

Once Cynthia disappeared around the corner to the elevators, Sharon turned her focus to the fuming man who had begun pacing next to her. "Andy," she waited until he stopped and looked at her, "why don't you go in and talk to Mr. Dunn, try to get a read on him?"

"Captain," Andy braced his hands on his hips, preparing himself for an argument because he did not want to be doing this right now, "we're right in the middle of an investigation, and we're already shorthanded–"

"Nonsense." Sharon shook her head, stopping him before he could finish with his excuse. "I can have Provenza meet our pimp instead. I will also," she raised her brow in another warning when it looked like he was going to object, "send Mike in to meet you with a DNA kit." She gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's best to get this over with, don't you think?"

Knowing he had already been defeated, Andy dropped his hands from his waist and gave up with a sigh. "Yeah."

He glanced back behind him and peered through the window at the man sitting at one of the table. No, he definitely didn't want to be dealing with this right now, but it certainly wouldn't get easier the longer he waited. Rusty had already almost run into them by accident in search of a soda, and it would be best if Andy was at least somewhat prepared for the inevitable. The least he could do was just what his Captain said—get a feel for the guy.

Andy took one more deep breath and let it out in a huff. "Thanks, Captain." He looked at her apologetically, hoping she understood he was grateful for her not only once again working around the issues involving Rusty, but for simply understanding.

Sharon didn't say anything, just simply responded with an encouraging smile of her own before quickly leaving in search of the other two Lieutenants.

Andy opened the break room door just wide enough for his body to slip through, and quickly shut it behind him. He was afraid that Rusty would become impatient while waiting for his soda and walk by at that exact moment to see his biological father sitting at one of the tables. Andy knew he was being irrational, especially since the blinds were open and anyone could see in the room without the door being open, but the surprise visit had him on edge and he wasn't thinking clearly. He briefly considered closing the blinds, but when it came down to it, he'd rather be prepared by seeing Rusty coming than to be surprised by the door suddenly opening. Besides, there's a good chance Rusty might not even recognize the man considering the picture from the DCFS file was fairly old, and it would simply look as though he was interviewing a suspect in their case. Andy resigned himself to the fact that he was simply being paranoid in light of the situation, and he really needed it to be over already.

At the sound of the door, Daniel Dunn briefly looked up, barely spared Andy a cursory glance before returning his attention back down to his phone to continue typing out what appeared to be a lengthy message or email. Unable to imagine what could be more important than discussing the child you supposedly just learned about, the response, or lack thereof, only managed to increase Andy's irritation.

Traversing the short distance to the table, with slow measured movements, Andy pulled out the opposite chair and lowered himself into its seat. Making himself as comfortable as possible, he leaned fully back into the chair and lifted one leg to rest its foot on the opposite knee before looking across the table to stare at the other man with a scrutinizing gaze. He had entered the room intending to have a nice, polite chat to get a feel for the other man, but he immediately discerned he didn't like the guy. Something about Daniel Dunn just rubbed him the wrong way, and with his experience reading people from first impressions, he didn't think it was solely because of his concern for Rusty.

"Sorry," Daniel quickly glanced up again as he finished typing out the last of his message, "but it's my fiance, and it's best to not leave her waiting." He finally locked the phone and laid it on the table, face down Andy noted, in front of him. "She's got a lot of questions."

Andy didn't immediately respond. Instead, he just sat there with the same unwavering stare as he figured out the best way to approach the conversation. It wasn't until the ridiculously confident smirk on Daniel's face faltered and he began to slightly squirm in his seat that he decided treating him like a suspect in an interview was the option that delighted him most. Thus, he remained quiet for a while longer as he made a point of visually assessing the other man.

Daniel looked back towards the door, then turned back to Andy with a nervous smile. "Is your Captain joining us?"

Andy smirked. If he had to guess, and he was sure he'd guess right, Daniel seemed like a smooth-talker that probably thought it would be a lot easier to charm the Captain because she was a woman. Knowing how wrong the assumption was made him want to chuckle out loud, but he maintained his passive demeanor so he could continue on with the 'interrogation'.

Ignoring the question, Andy nodded towards the phone, "So, you're engaged?" Knowing the answer, it was more of a statement than question, and he didn't wait for Daniel to confirm before adding, "Any kids?"

"My fiance," Daniel cleared his throat when his voice sounded raspy, "Annie, she has two daughters, but I don't have any of my own. Well," he chuckled lightly, "I didn't think I did until now."

"Technically," Andy held a finger up, still not ready to give into the inevitable, "that hasn't been confirmed yet." A huge smile spread across his face when he saw Mike's head peer through the window before opening the door; he couldn't have timed the arrival better himself if he wanted to. "Which is why Lieutenant Tao here," he made a flourished gesture with his hand, "is prepared to take a cheek swab."

A generic smile passed over Mike's features. "Hi."

"Oh," Daniel sat up straighter, concern evident in his tone, "is this really necessary?" He looked back and forth between the two Lieutenants. "I thought there was already a match to my brother."

"It's a _near_ match." Andy was quick to point out, "and here at the LAPD, we like to be certain. So…" He made a circular motion with his hand, indicating for Mike to get on with it.

"Open up." Mike held out the large q-tip in front of Daniel's face.

"Okay," Daniel said hesitantly, but did as he was asked.

"Thanks, Tao," Andy said with a grateful smile as the other man capped the swab and put it back inside the envelope. He waited until Mike left the room again, before returning his attention to Daniel. "Speaking of your brother, is he the only one you have?"

Clearly thrown by the question, a frown crinkled Daniel's forehead. "Umm, yea."

Andy felt a slight twinge of disappointment even though he expected that to be the case. "And how did you meet Sharon Beck?"

Daniel's frown deepened with the sudden change in questions. "We went to highschool together for part of my junior year."

"And you're telling me," Andy crossed his arms over his chest, "that she never once mentioned that you had a son together?"

"I never heard from her again after she moved, so no," Daniel's voice dripped with sarcasm, "she didn't bother mentioning it." The twiddling of his fingers indicated that he was becoming increasingly agitated. "What is with these questions?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Has Rusty done something wrong?"

Andy shook his head and refrained from rolling his eyes at Mr. Dunn's automatic assumption that Rusty had done something. "Rusty is a material witness in an upcoming murder trial, and it's my job to look out for his best interests." Not wanting to divulge too much information just yet, he figured that was an honest enough answer considering his role as his foster parent.

"Is that why you're here talking to me instead of him?"

"Honestly," Andy uncrossed one of his arms and rested his fingertips against his chin, "he wasn't keen on the idea of meeting you at all and your arrival today is very," he paused as he tried to come up with a word other than 'unwanted', and ultimately went with, "unexpected."

"Ah," Daniel rapped his knuckles on the table, "well, it seems we have a problem then."

Andy wanted to point out that Daniel was the problem, but he simply just said, "Yes."

"So," Daniel leaned forward and leveled Andy with a questioning stare, seeming genuinely interested in finding a solution, "what do you plan to do about it?"

Andy's jaw clenched and he had to force himself to relax. His plan to do as Rusty asked was now blown to hell, and he honestly wasn't sure what he was going to do, but Daniel didn't need to know that. "It appears," he began slowly, "I am going to have to talk to Rusty and see if I can change his mind." Hoping to buy himself a little more time, he decided to make a suggestion. "It might not be that easy, so if you'd like, I can give you a call when–"

"No," Daniel interrupted, "I will just wait right here." As if to prove a point, he leaned back in his chair and picked up his phone.

Not trusting himself to remain cordial, Andy just bit his tongue, not bothering with a response, as he stood up from the table. Before exiting the break room, he stopped at the refrigerator and grabbed the can of soda that Rusty had requested. He would need to check in with the investigation before finding the kid, but he had no intentions of returning to the break room and seeing Daniel Dunn until then, if at all.

Once outside the door, Andy stepped to the side opposite of the windows, braced one clenched fist against the wall and took several deep, calming breaths. This day went from being an average day with your typical murder to a complete disaster in a matter of seconds, and there was no one to blame but himself.

" _You guys gave us a DNA result and said go look for him."_

Andy was regretting not looking into Daniel Dunn himself. He figured the consequences of doing an unauthorized background check had to be better than the hell he was in now. He should've known that his 'friend' couldn't do a simple favor for him by keeping things hush-hush. Not that he could really blame her, it was her job on the line after all. A little heads up would've been appreciated though. It further pissed him off that he was blindsided at work and had no time to come up with a plan.

" _Foster care by definition is temporary. As it is, Rusty officially has a placement issue, to which this man can be the answer."_

He scoffed at the thought. There was no issue with Rusty's placement, they were both happy with the way things were. Cynthia made it seem like he was desperate to get the kid out of his house, which absolutely wasn't the case. She should be happy that Rusty finally found a place where he felt comfortable, instead of doing everything she could to disrupt all the trust they had built. That's what was really bothering Andy, all the credibility he had worked so hard to gain with the kid would likely be shot to hell.

" _Legally obligated to notify him… Unless he proves to be unfit, Mr Dunn has legal rights here."_

He was so sick of hearing that word ' _legal_ '. It was yet another reminder that even as a foster parent, he had very little say in making decisions regarding Rusty's well-being. It was one of the reasons he had been considering filing for legal guardianship before all of this chaos occurred; he felt restricted in what he could do for the kid.

A loud commotion coming from the directions of the interview rooms startled Andy and brought him back to the present. He reached the murder room in time to see Tao ushering their witness away from one interview room and towards the other. He made his way to the electronics room, intent on figuring out what he could do to help, but just as he was reaching for the door handle, it opened and the Captain, followed soon after by Buzz, exited the room.

"Lieutenant," Sharon said breathlessly, startled by his presence. She held up a single finger. "I'll be with you in one second. Buzz," she paused as she turned around, waiting until the door was closed again, "let's move to the conference room," she began walking in that direction as she spoke, "away from our _guest monitor_ , I would like for you to pull up Hollywood's crime scene video. There's something I would like to see."

Andy hesitated for a moment, debating whether he wanted to talk to Rusty now, or put it off a little longer. Since the kid had not emerged from his cubicle, he decided a little longer wouldn't hurt and followed behind the other two at a more sedate pace. He made it halfway across the murder room when the sound of Provenza's voice brought him to a halt.

"Ye, Gods," Provenza tugged at the lapels of his jacket, then the bottom, straightening it back out, "I am too damn old to be wrestling suspects." He finally noticed Andy standing in the middle of the room staring back at him with an amused expression and his scowl deepened. "I thought you were talking to Rusty's father?"

"Shhh!" Andy waved both hands frantically until he realized one of them still held the can of soda and was shaking up its contents. He looked past Provenza's shoulder to make sure Rusty hadn't heard him. Satisfied by his continued lack of appearance, he turned his glare fully onto his partner. "I was, but now I'm not."

"And I see," Provenza lowered his voice to a loud whisper and swatted Andy's hand when he once again flailed, signalling for him to be quiet, "you are now avoiding talking to Rusty."

"I'm not avoiding talking to him," Andy's voice had risen a couple of octaves despite being at a loud whisper, belying the validity of his words, "I'm just making sure the Captain doesn't need me for anything."

Provenza rolled his eyes. "Sure you are." He pointed behind his partner to where their Captain was signalling for them from the doorway to the conference room. "Come on," he nudged Andy in her direction, "so she can tell you that we can manage just fine without you, and then you can get on with delivering Rusty the oh-so-wonderful news."

"If you were in my position," Andy mumbled as he trudged behind his partner, "you would be just as reluctant."

Provenza whirled around and shook a finger at Andy. "I told you this was a bad idea from the beginning."

Andy merely scowled in response. Provenza never missed an opportunity to inform him he was an idiot, and he certainly never passed up the chance to say 'I told you so.'

"How did it go?" Sharon asked quietly as Andy passed by her at the door.

Andy wanted to say he didn't like Mr. Dunn in the slightest, but was sure it would appear as though he was being close-minded because of his relationship with Rusty. Instead he shrugged, and simply said, "I'm not sure what to think of the guy yet."

"Captain," Buzz interrupted with an apologetic smile, "I have the video cued up."

Andy only half listened to the Captain's and Provenza's conversation as they discussed some door and the pimp. He was trying to come up with a plan of how he would approach Rusty with the information regarding Daniel Dunn, whether it would be best to ease him into the news, or just rip the bandaid off and get it out as quickly as possible.

"Lieutenant Provenza," the commanding tone of the Captain's voice captured Andy's complete focus, "please tell Dr. Morales I want to see Derek Hansen's body."

Andy stepped up, hopeful for the opportunity to do something else. "I can do that."

"The Captain asked _me_ to do it," Provenza growled out in annoyance.

"Andy," Sharon leaned forward and braced her hands on one of the chairs, "I think Rusty would like his soda now." Her gaze dropped to the object in his hand.

Andy looked down at the can that he had once again forgot he was holding, and noted that it no longer held a chill from being in the refrigerator. He entertained the thought of trading it out for a cold one, but it would be just another stall tactic. Not to mention, Daniel Dunn was waiting in the breakroom, and he was still keen on the idea of avoiding him.

"You know," Andy huffed out a mirthless chuckle, "Rusty may never trust me again." He didn't know why he felt compelled to tell them that, but he did. Probably just so they at least knew the true reason for his reluctance.

"Andy," Sharon started, but stopped when Andy held up his hand and shook his head, letting her know he didn't need more words of motivation.

He took one more deep breath, steeling himself for the argument that would certainly ensue. "Alright," he straightened to full height from where he was leaning against the conference table, "I'm going."

Provenza glanced over at the Captain to where she was looking at him with a raised brow. He understood what she was silently telling him and nodded his head in Andy's direction, indicating that he was going to keep an eye on him and followed him out the door.

Reaching Rusty's cubicle, Andy popped his head in around the corner before stepping fully into Rusty's view. "Hey, Kid," he said, waving the soda can he requested in front of him.

"Finally," Rusty mumbled, lifting himself slightly off his chair to reach for his soda over the table. "I'm dying of thirst here."

Although Andy relinquished his hold on the can, he also pursed his lips and glared momentarily at Rusty. "There's water in this building, too, you know."

Rusty recognized the chiding, but rolled his eyes for effect before exercising some manners and mumbling, "I mean, thanks."

Andy chuckled, but it sounded rather nervous even to his own ears. Rubbing a hand against the back of his head, he broached the real reason he joined Rusty in his cubicle. "Listen, Rusty," the grave tone of his voice made Rusty give up on opening his soda, and he looked at Andy with raised eyebrows, "there's something I gotta tell you."

Rusty squared his shoulders and wrapped both hands around the soda can, placing it firmly in his lap. "That sounds serious."

On a sigh, Andy said, "It is, it's about your father."

Rusty frowned. "What about him?"

Taking a quick breath, Andy answered. "He's here," his brow drew together in a worried line and he warily ran a couple of fingers along it as if hiding from Rusty's look before adding, "and I met him."

Andy had expected an explosive reaction from Rusty, but he was still startled when he slammed his soda against the desktop and yelled out, "What?" He started wheeling his chair backwards, and growing increasingly agitated, added in a low growl, "You said that meeting my father was up to me!"

Andy braced his hands against the desk. "I know, but Cynthia-"

"And you met him?" Rusty cut him off, getting to his feet and making a frantic circle. "He's in the building," he pointed his index finger at the floor, "right now?" His voice took on a panicked pitch.

"Slow down, Rusty," Andy straightened, making a placating gesture at him, but there was no way of calming Rusty down quite so easily, for he cut Andy off again.

"Oh, my God, I can't believe this." Rusty ran a hand through his hair, making another frantic circle. "Oh, my God," he looked heavenward, "this is so messed up." Suddenly he came to a halt and turned to Andy again. "Wait, Cynthia?" he asked, but it was more of a rhetorical question because he quickly went on. "She brought him over?" His eyes went wide as it dawned on him. "He's in the break room, isn't he?" He ran both hands through his hair now. " _That's_ why I couldn't go in there to get something to drink." He started pacing like a caged animal again, and slammed his hands against one of the filing cabinets. "Oh, my _God_!"

"Rusty!" Andy said loudly, managing to at least pause Rusty's angry tirade. "Would you just," he waved his hands desperately in front of himself, "let me explain?"

"What is there to explain?" Rusty geared up for another rant, but Andy smacked his palm against the desk, the sound startling Rusty and snapping his mouth shut.

Satisfied that he finally had the boy's undivided attention, Andy started, "When DCFS," he clenched his hand into a fist, almost physically straining to keep calm, "found out about your biological father, they had to, Rusty," he said his name to again make sure he was listening before reiterating, " _had to_ , okay, tell him about you. Clearly," he rolled his eyes, still very much angry with the way Daniel Dunn was introduced to them, "they could have given us a heads up, but they just followed their regulations!"

"I don't give a crap about regulations!" Rusty exclaimed, throwing his arms out. "I couldn't care less about what DCFS does or doesn't have to do! You," he pointed a finger at Andy accusatory, "said it was up to me whether I meet him or not, and now you're telling me he's in the break room!" He rubbed a hand over his face and made yet another wild circle before stopping and pinning Andy with a narrow-eyed, seething glare. "You know, I was just starting to think that _maybe_ ," the word dripped with disdain,"you weren't like the rest of them," he struck a hand out to the side, "but clearly you're just as big a liar as everyone else!"

Even though he expected it, it still felt like a slap in the face. It was then that Andy realized that part of him had hoped that Rusty would know that none of this was Andy's intention, and that he certainly hadn't meant to betray his trust. Taken aback and dumbstruck into momentary silence, he took half a step backwards, his hands falling limply to his sides. However, Rusty's scornful look quickly snapped him out of his shock and when he opened his mouth, his booming voice took even Andy himself by surprise. "I wasn't lying to you!" Willing himself not to explode further, he shook his head and took a deep breath to lower his voice. "Cynthia was only trying to help you. That's why she brought Dunn here."

"Stop it!" Andy didn't think Rusty's voice could become any louder, but it did. He pointed his finger at him again, too. "This has nothing to do with helping me! This is all about you finally being able to get rid of me! Finally getting back into your kids' good graces, too!" He flopped his hand down to his hip, and groaned. "What was I thinking?" he asked himself before slapping Andy with another accusatory glare. When he spoke next, he was surprisingly calm, but that only made his words sound all the more venomous. "I knew nothing good would ever come out of living with a drunk."

Andy felt his heart rate pick up, not that it wasn't fairly elevated already, and a heavy, uncomfortable weight settled in his chest. "I," his voice was surprisingly quiet, but hollow and laced with hurt he didn't know how to conceal, "don't want to ge-"

Both he and Rusty abruptly turned to the sound of Provenza barking, "Alright, that's enough!" He strode over to the middle of the room and, making a cutting motion through the air, repeated, "That's _enough_!" It shocked them both into silence long enough for him to address Rusty in a low, angry voice. "Now, you know I barely tolerate him," he gestured at Andy, "even on a good day..:"

"Gee, thanks, Provenza," Andy said on an eye roll, but quickly shut his mouth, when his partner slapped him with a dangerous glare.

Provenza turned to Rusty. "He's annoying, he's grumpy, he doesn't _ever_ listen to a _thing_ I tell him." He shot Andy another glare, who could do nothing but stare back, dumbfounded. "And I told him he was an idiot for taking you in. But you know what?" He threw his arms out. "He did, and he had months to dump you somewhere, but did he?" He gave Rusty a wide-eyed look that all but dared him to disagree with the obvious answer to that question, before answering it himself. "No, instead he's been going out of his way to make you feel at home. In fact, he's been walking on eggshells around you ever since this Dunn guy cropped up because he didn't want to," he rolled his eyes and almost mockingly said, "hurt your feelings. So," he pointed a finger at Rusty, "don't you dare accuse him of wanting to get rid of you."

Andy found himself a little touched by his partner's sudden support (he would ignore all his insults along the way), but as his partner geared up to say more, he realized he might start making the situation worse rather than better. "Okay," he looked at Rusty's stupefied face worryingly and tapped Provenza's shoulder, getting his attention, "I think he gets the point."

"Oh, no, no," Provenza shrugged his hand off, "I don't think that he does." Rusty's eyes widened, and he almost flinched when Provenza went on, waving a hand around the air. "So, this guy shows up, says he's your father, wants to see you." He shrugged. "We weren't prepared for this either, Rusty, but do you see us throwing tantrums here?" A slight touch of sarcasm seeped into his tone, and he suddenly turned to Andy. "Perhaps some whining," he said exasperatedly, making Andy roll his eyes at him again, "but how about," he turned back toward Rusty, "you take a moment so we can look at your options here?" He clasped his hands in a mock imploring manner. "You think we can try that?"

That seemed to finally get through to Rusty, and he blinked a couple of times before turning to Andy. "So," he said, taking in a breath, "you talked to him?"

Andy took a quick breath, relieved that by some miracle Provenza actually managed to defuse the situation. "I did."

Slowly, Rusty nodded. "And," he spoke hesitantly, "what did you think of him?"

There were plenty of things Andy thought of Daniel Dunn, very few of them good, and even fewer ones meant for Rusty's ears. He had promised Rusty not to lie to him, however, so he settled on the one truth he deemed safe for sharing. "I think that, at this point," he sighed and momentarily sought out his partner's eye, who nodded curtly, but encouragingly, "whatever I think of him is likely to be extremely biased." He cleared his throat when he realized how gravelly the words came out.

Rusty's features softened and curiosity seeped into them. He looked between the two Lieutenants before settling on Andy. "But?" he prodded, shifting on the spot.

"But," Andy repeated on a sigh, "although right now I can't say I like the guy, he did come to see you the moment he found out about you." He shrugged and smiled hopefully. "Maybe that should count for something."

Contemplating his next question, Rusty momentarily fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "So," he started insecurely, "I have to go see him?"

"I don't think there's a way around it now, Kid," Andy confirmed regretfully. "But know that's not," he took a step forward and leaned over the desk to make sure Rusty was listening carefully before he finished his thought, "because _I_ want to get rid of you, alright?"

Rusty dropped his gaze to Andy's hands resting against the surface of the table. "I know," he said in a small, guilty voice. "I'm sorry," he started shaking his head, "I shouldn't hav-"

"Don't worry about it," Andy cut him off, straightening. He wasn't sure he could handle apologies right now. "Fact is that he's here," he stated, doing his best to think rationally, "and if we," he shook his head and, at long last resigning himself to the inevitable truth of their situation, begrudgingly corrected himself, " _when_ we confirm that he is your biological father, Rusty," he tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow in a fashion that said he was looking on the bright side of things, "maybe it's not such a bad idea to use your chance to suss him out for yourself while we wait on the results." That he also preferred being able to keep an eye on them both, he decided to keep to himself. When Rusty nodded, he went on, deliberately changing the topic. "I'm gonna get back to work now," his eyes flickered to Provenza, making it clear he was not to be argued with this time, "so, how about you," he nodded to Rusty's can of soda, "finally have that drink of yours and think about how to proceed?"

Rusty barely got to let out, "Uhm, yeah," when Andy turned on his heel and made a hasty retreat, not trusting himself to keep it together for much longer.

Rusty grabbed his drink and turned to Provenza, who was regarding him with a dark, scrutinizing glare. "I didn't mean to upset him," he told him regretfully.

"Yeah, well," Provenza folded his arms, "you did."

Sighing, Rusty turned his attention to his soda and popped it open. "Damn it!" he exclaimed, stretching his arm out when the opening hiss was followed by bubbles bursting out and the liquid spilling all over his hand.

Provenza merely smirked and made his way along his partner's earlier path. "Serves you right," he muttered under his breath.

…

Andy dragged his feet along the corridor as he made his way toward Rusty's hideout. The intense pace at which the case unravelled had kept him so busy that he hadn't seen Rusty since telling him about Daniel Dunn. That was not to say that he had stopped worrying. He simply had a good excuse not to do anything about it. It wasn't until Provenza told him to let the paperwork be for the time being that he even realized it had gone completely dark and that it was high time to check in on Rusty and more importantly find out what, if any, decision he had come to.

He sighed quietly when he rounded the corner and found Rusty staring out the window. The boy was so lost in thought that he hadn't noticed Andy's reflection at all, much less it growing larger as he approached him. It was only when Andy came to a stop and lightly brushed his shoulder against Rusty's that he tore his gaze away from the city lights and acknowledged his presence with a tired sounding, "Hey."

"How's the hiding going?" Andy asked, a touch of humor to his words.

Instead of denying it, Rusty shrugged. "Once you confirm he's my biological father," he started, returning his gaze to the window, "I won't have much of a say in this, will I?"

Andy nodded and let his eyes trail over the building across the street. "That's when his parental rights will kick in." He slanted Rusty a sympathetic look before adding, "So, no, you won't."

Rusty met his eye and nodded. "Yeah, I've been reading up on parental rights on the internet all day."

"Look, Rusty," Andy turned sideways to face him fully, "the guy's been waiting here half a day to meet you." He dropped his gaze to his left hand that had unconsciously started fiddling with the chain around his right wrist. "Maybe that's a good sign."

"Well," Rusty turned and leaned a shoulder against the wall next to the window, "I've waited my entire life." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave Andy a challenging look. "What kind of sign is that?" The bitterness in his voice was almost palpable.

Andy leaned his own shoulder against the wall and folded his arms. "A sign that perhaps he really didn't know about you until today?"

"So his waiting around today means he wants to know me now?"

"I'd like to think so," Andy nodded, "yes."

"But," Rusty shifted on the spot and stuck his hands deeper into his pockets as he shrugged, "what if once he does, he doesn't like me? I mean," his voice took on a pleading note and he went back to staring out the window, "what happens when he finds out everything about me?" He looked desperately back at his foster parent. "He won't like me, Andy." On a shake of his head, he reiterated, "He just won't. And I-" he started stammering and looked away again, "I can't handle that. It just makes me wanna run away from it."

Andy put up a hand, interrupting Rusty before he could work himself up even more. The wave of sympathy that washed over him took root somewhere deep in the middle of his chest, and he had to clear his throat when Rusty's name came out thickly. "Take it from someone who's tried running away from things." He smiled ruefully at that awful truth and tilted his head to the side to make sure he caught Rusty's eye and his attention. "Some things you just gotta accept as part of who you are. You can run all you like, but there's no escaping them." Pushing his shoulder off the wall, he straightened and shrugged. "There's only learning to live with them."

"Live with _Daniel Dunn?_ " The look on Rusty's face held nothing but utter horror.

"That's not what I meant." Andy chuckled nervously and briefly avoided Rusty's gaze as he tugged on one lapel of his jacket and used the back of his other hand to brush off some imaginary lint. He was not ready to contemplate that, by the looks of it, inevitable scenario just yet, and he had a feeling he never would be. "I was thinking more along the lines of," he looked up at Rusty again, letting go of his lapel and smoothing out his jacket, "facing him head on rather than tucking your tail in and running away."

"Give him a good look in the eye, huh?" For the first time since starting this conversation, Rusty sounded slightly decisive.

Andy leaned back against the wall, an air of finality around him. "It's the one decision you can make on your own terms before the DNA results come in."

Rusty merely nodded at that before a short silence settled over them. He looked at Andy somewhat sheepishly and finally lifted it. "What I said earlier," he swallowed and hung his head for a moment before meeting Andy's eyes again, "about you wanting to get rid of me..." Andy shook his head, not needing the apology that was coming, but Rusty went on. "That was terrible of me to say, because I know you don't." He sounded almost desperately pleading when he made that point once more. "I really know that." He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "And what I said about your kids... I'm sorry. I know that whatever's going on between you is more complicated than that. It's just that," he took a shuddering breath, "sometimes I feel like I don't belong here." He rolled his eyes. "And that's stupid, because you've gone out of your way to make me feel like I do. You've been so good to me, I know that." He smiled briefly, almost shyly. "I really do."

The lump that formed in Andy's throat was a very unfamiliar experience, and all he could do was push it back with a swallow and nod. What words he may have wanted to say, he didn't get a chance to form, because Rusty nodded, too, then walked past him. Andy could only follow his retreating back, both hoping and dreading that Rusty was going to finally face the man who was likely to officially be his biological father by that time the next day.

-TBC-

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A/N: As always, we would love to know what you guys thought of this chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

As always, we want to thank you all for your continued support through reviews, follows, and favorites. It's such a delight to read that some of your favorite scenes are ours as well. It makes them that much more special :)

For those that have asked about Sharon, she will have a few shining moments in our next chapter, so until then, we hope you enjoy the following one where we endeavored to fill in some of the missing scenes we didn't witness on the show.

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THE SAME, YET DIFFERENT - CHAPTER EIGHT

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that at the last moment, Rusty chickened out and fled Daniel Dunn's presence in the break room. Still, Andy had been caught completely off guard when, within only a few minutes of leaving, Rusty stormed back into the murder, and in a frantic, pleading manner said, "I can't. Can we _please_ just go home?" He hadn't even paused to hear Andy's response, but ploughed past him toward his cubicle, most likely to collect his things.

Knowing better than to try to change the kid's mind when he was in that bewildered a state, Andy refrained from following him. He glanced around the murder room instead, helplessly looking for advice, only to be reminded of the fact that everyone had already left and he was to figure this one out on his own. When he finally came to the obvious decision, he heaved a heavy sigh, retraced Rusty's steps and slipped into the break room himself. He found Daniel Dunn pacing and typing away on his phone, and for a second Andy had an overwhelming urge to just pry the offending device from his hands and smash it against the wall. Not that he had spent that much time with the man since making their first introductions, but he felt as if Dunn had been doing nothing but staring at that damn phone all day.

"Lieutenant Flynn." Daniel's words quickly pushed Andy's thoughts to the back of his mind and he closed the door behind him. "I assume that was Rusty?" Daniel nodded his head to the side, clearly indicating the direction in which Rusty had gone off.

Andy took it as progress that Rusty had apparently at least made it to the door before changing his mind. He folded his arms before responding. "I am sorry for wasting your time," he didn't really bother trying to sound the least bit apologetic, "but as I have said before, changing his mind about meeting you won't be easy."

Daniel put away his phone, and hooked his thumbs into his pockets. A flash of regret flitted over his features, before his eyebrows lifted and he hopefully said, "Is there anything I can do to help change his mind?"

"You can go home," Andy blurted out, his annoyance with the situation momentarily getting the better of him. In an attempt to soften the rather harshly spoken suggestion, he added, "Let Rusty process this. He will come around." He sounded much more confident than he felt.

Daniel unhooked his thumbs from his pockets and slumped his shoulders. "Can I, uh," he stammered, "maybe take him out to dinner?" He waved a hand at Andy in an inviting gesture. "If it will make Rusty feel better, you should come along, too?" He shook his head, starting to ramble suddenly. "This has come out of the blue for me, too, you know? I'm just trying to do what's right here," he shrugged in resignation, "and leaving doesn't exactly feel right."

Andy narrowed his eyes at him, his bias not allowing him to take Daniel's words as genuine as they sounded. Practically forcing himself to give the man the benefit of the doubt, he finally nodded, uncrossing his arms. "Dinner sounds good." He tilted his head to the side in Rusty's direction. "Just let me talk him into it."

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Daniel said on a sarcastic chuckle, but when that put a frown on Andy's face, he quickly nodded and added, "But yeah, that sounds good. You'll call me when Rusty makes his decision?"

"I will," Andy said, then stepped to the side of the door and opened it with a flourish. He didn't care if he seemed a little too eager to get rid of Daniel, not when it would finally give him and Rusty a moment to properly wrap their heads around the situation.

Taking Andy's hint, Daniel looked around the break room and patted his pockets as if checking whether he had forgotten anything, then walked past Andy and out the door. He stopped in the corridor, however, and politely said, "Thank you." He fished his phone out of his pocket and waved it through the air. "I'll be looking forward to your call."

"Goodbye, Mr. Dunn," Andy said cordially, then watched Daniel turn and finally take his leave.

When the man disappeared from view, Andy sighed in relief. Knowing though that the rest of his evening was far from being a relaxing one, his relief quickly evaporated and gave way to a feeling of immense pressure weighing uncomfortably on his shoulders. Trying to ease some of it, and really just needing a second to brace himself for what was yet to come, he tugged on his jacket, rolled his neck and took a deep, steeling breath, before finally walking back into the murder room in search of his foster son.

Once he located him, he just said, "Let's go home."

The boy didn't need further prodding, and he all but ran out of the murder room toward the elevator. Andy could do nothing but follow, resigned to spending yet another agonizingly silent drive home with the boy. He wanted to laugh when he realized that those silences were one thing he and Rusty had gotten the perfect hang of, but when they arrived home and Rusty made a wordless beeline to his room, he knew that putting it off much longer would not make things any easier.

Yet, he put it off. He dropped his keys in their usual spot in the foyer, placed his cuffs and badge next to them, and made his way toward the kitchen. He shrugged out of his jacket on the way and came to a stop near the dining table where he draped it over a chair. He lingered there for a moment longer when his eyes fell on Rusty's chessboard. Rusty had been pondering some new strategies that morning before leaving for school, and he had left the set on the table, the pieces still scattered in a pattern that was beyond Andy's skill level. Daniel Dunn weighed heavily on his mind as he tried to picture the board no longer residing in his home, and he could only sigh, finally resuming his trek to the kitchen when he found himself in no uncertain terms absolutely hating the conjured up picture.

He stuck his head in the fridge in search of a bottle of water, hoping for the cold liquid to cool down his inner turmoil, but as he drowned nearly half its contents and leaned against his kitchen counter, he found himself feeling even more upset. He capped the bottle, and holding it by its neck between his thumb and index finger, started rolling it from side to side, focusing on the liquid sloshing chaotically inside, much like the thoughts whirling around his mind.

As complicated as he felt his and Rusty's current situation was, it was all really very simple. Once Daniel Dunn was officially declared Rusty's biological father, he would become a permanent fixture in his life. That was the most prominent reason why Rusty would need to get to know the man, preferably before DCFS took charge and followed the law by yanking him out of Andy's custody and dropping him into Daniel Dunn's lap once and for all. That was all, of course, assuming Daniel Dunn would want that to happen. As much as he hated admitting it, right now Andy could not deny that the man seemed set on meeting Rusty and doing the right thing. However, it was the definition of the 'right thing' that had Andy worried, because he had a nagging feeling that at this moment the _right thing_ involved Dunn more than it did Rusty.

The shuffling of feet pulled Andy out of his musings and when he looked up, Rusty was already leaning against the counter opposite of him. The way he stood on his tiptoes with his shoulders drawn together while regarding him over a furrowed brow, let Andy know he was finally ready to talk.

"That must be some bottle of water," Rusty broke the silence sarcastically.

"Oh," Andy looked down at the bottle and quickly placed it next to the sink, "I was just thinking."

Rusty nodded and sank down fully to his feet. "Yeah, me too."

"Come on," Andy pushed off the counter and nodded his head toward the dining area, "we've gotta talk, Kid."

Rusty did not immediately follow. For a few moments he merely watched Andy walk up to the dining table and take a seat on one of the chairs. He sighed, knowing there was no way around this, and finally pried himself away from the counter and dragged himself toward the chair on Andy's opposite side.

"I know I _have_ to meet him." Even to his own ears Rusty sounded petulant. It didn't help that he took to fiddling with one of the black rooks on his chessboard.

"Yeah," Andy agreed on a sigh.

"It's just that," Rusty tore his eyes away from his chess piece and looked at Andy, "I wasn't ready today." He dragged the piece across the board until he found its appropriate starting place in the left corner, and added, "I panicked."

Andy hummed knowingly, and reached a hand out toward the board, using his index finger to push against one of its edges and rotate it so that the white pieces were on his side of the table. "He's invited us to dinner," he said simply.

Rusty shot him a wide-eyed look. " _Us_?"

Andy shrugged, but kept his eyes on the board as he lazily started setting the pieces on his side. "He thought you might be more at ease if I came with."

"Huh," Rusty let out, dropping his gaze onto what Andy was doing. "Will you," he cleared his throat, hesitating for a moment, "come with us?" He sounded hopeful.

Andy paused in lining up his pawns and lifted an eyebrow in surprise. "Is that a yes on dinner then?"

Rusty slumped into the back of his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "It's not like I have much of a choice," he grumbled.

Andy chuckled, but replied seriously, "I'd like to get a better picture of him myself, so," he leaned back and shrugged, "I would actually _prefer_ to go with you."

Reassured, Rusty nodded his okay. "I don't know why," he started quietly, pausing to prop his chin on a bent elbow, while he aligned the chess pieces that adorned his side of the board, "but I don't have a good feeling about this."

Andy bit his tongue, knowing better than to admit to having quite similar, albeit slightly more justified thoughts, and decided to focus on the positives not even he could ignore. "You haven't even met the guy yet, Rusty." He resumed lining up his pawns on the board. "He may have pushed it a little by waiting on you the entire day, but," he quirked an eyebrow and shrugged, "he did finally back off and agree to give you some time to process."

Rusty frowned, the hand holding onto one of his knights coming to a stop mid-air. "Back off by inviting me to dinner?" he asked sarcastically, pointing the knight at Andy.

Andy pursed his lips and shot Rusty a bland look. "Back off by," he repeated slowly and pointedly, "letting us be the ones to decide when we are having that dinner."

"Oh," Rusty said lamely, then finally dropped the knight into the right square on the board.

"Yeah, oh," Andy parroted back. His voice softening and thinking back to his latest conversation with Daniel, he added, "He's just as shocked by this as we are, Rusty, and I think he's trying to muddle through this," he waved his last pawn at Rusty, "the same way we are." He punctuated his words by pressing the pawn firmly into its spot on the board.

"I like the way we've been muddling through so far," Rusty mumbled, avoiding Andy's eyes and focusing instead on his bishop that he placed carefully to the right of one of his knights.

Andy smiled softly, the smile probably his first genuine one of the day. "I do, too," he said, having to clear his throat when the words came out somewhat thickly. He sounded more optimistic than he felt when he added, "We will muddle through this, too."

Rusty didn't share his optimism and eyed him sarcastically. "Parental rights, Andy," he said pointedly.

Andy started to despise that term, but refrained from revealing as much to Rusty. "Let's just take it one step at a time, Kid." Noting that all the pieces were properly set on the board, he added, "But before we do, how about you show me your new moves?" He moved a pawn and started the game.

Rusty grinned. "But only one game," he said seriously, sliding his pawn over the board. "I need to start preparing for that dinner."

Andy frowned, puzzled. What kind of preparation Rusty had in mind, he had no idea, but he didn't have the energy to inquire about it either. He moved another piece across the board, and simply agreed. "One game then."

. . .

Rusty's initial impression of his biological father was less than stellar. Not wanting Daniel to have to wait on them, he and Andy had arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, but it turned out that it wouldn't have mattered because he didn't walk in the door until exactly seven o'clock on the dot. Technically he wasn't late, but that was merely semantics to Rusty. Even more unsettling than his 'promptness' was the way Daniel acted as though it was no big deal that they had gone sixteen years without knowing about each other. Once they were seated, he immediately struck up a conversation as though everyone at the table knew the people and places he was referring to. Rusty had learned numerous facts about Daniel Dunn in a short period, but he still felt as though he knew absolutely nothing at all. He had thought he was nervous before, but that didn't amount to anywhere near the anxiety he was feeling now after actually meeting his biological father, and the feeling intensified the longer their dinner went on.

Rusty pushed his pasta around the plate with his fork while he continued listening to Daniel drone on about his life. Andy had mentioned that the marinara sauce was good, but Rusty didn't have much of an appetite at the moment and everything tasted as bland as the water he was drinking. Normally he wouldn't have a problem contributing to the conversation, but it was clear by the fancy atmosphere of the restaurant and the way Daniel kept talking up his _wonderful_ fiance and her _incredibly sweet_ daughters, which went along with his _great_ job, that the man was putting on a show. Instead of giving Rusty the good impression that was surely intended, it left him feeling even more suspicious of the man. So much so, he found himself scrutinizing every tiny detail about him, from his minor facial ticks to the small changes in the inflection of his tone, in an effort to determine exactly what Daniel could be trying to hide.

Unable to pinpoint what Daniel could be trying to detract attention from, Rusty began to focus more on his words and precisely what he was saying. It seemed as though his sperm donor already had this perfect life set up, and it left Rusty wondering where he would fit in, if at all. Moving in with Andy was a difficult transition on its own, and that was with only one person to grow accustomed to. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to try and fit in with four other people living in the house, especially if things were as perfect as they were made to seem. In his experience, things didn't always go as smoothly as it did with Andy, which is saying a lot considering they had a few precarious moments in the beginning and still had the occasional squabble. Despite that, things had never gone this well for Rusty until now, and the prospect of having yet another dreadful experience after something finally going right made him all the more apprehensive about joining Dunn and his perfect, little family.

"Do you not like it?" Daniel gestured towards Rusty's plate, finally seeming to notice that he hadn't eaten much of it.

"Oh," Rusty finally laid his fork down, "I like it." He looked over the table and noticed that the other two men had long since finished their meal and he felt slightly guilty. "I just had a big lunch is all."

Easily accepting Rusty's excuse despite it being an obvious lie, Daniel didn't hesitate to pick up the conversation right where he left off. From next to him, Rusty heard a barely audible groan and he was pleased to know that Andy seemed to be just as miserable as he was. Thankfully, their server had dropped by the check a short while later and once it was settled, he and Andy simultaneously moved to get up from the table. Daniel followed suit without hesitation, seemingly oblivious about their eagerness to leave.

When they reached the waiting area of the restaurant, Rusty's steps slowed, then he turned and faced Daniel, plastering on the most sincere smile he could muster. "Uh, thanks for dinner," he nervously gripped the sides of his pant legs, "it was good."

"I'm glad you liked it." Daniel grinned proudly.

"Well, goodbye I guess." Before Daniel had a chance to respond, he turned to Andy. "I'm gonna go to the restroom before we head home." He quickly scurried off towards a hall just off the waiting area.

When he disappeared around the corner, Daniel turned to Andy. "Rusty didn't really say much during dinner," he looked at Andy suspiciously as though he was the cause for it, "and I get the feeling he's still not thrilled about meeting me."

Andy ignored the insinuation. "Trust me," he walked over to the hostess stand and plucked a toothpick from the dispenser, "it takes time for him to warm up."

"So," Daniel leaned over until Andy was looking at him again, "any suggestions you can give me to help me speed the process along?"

The schmoozy smile that the other man gave had Andy clenching his jaw tightly. He was grateful he had not slipped the toothpick into his mouth yet for it surely would've been snapped in two. It further pissed him off that Daniel was in such a rush to make things better for himself rather than taking Rusty's feelings into account, and he was tempted to leave the man to figure it out on his own, but that would make Andy just as inconsiderate. If there was a way to make the transition easier for Rusty, he felt obligated to do it, but that didn't mean he had to be nice about it.

"Perhaps," Andy paused to rub the tip of his chin, sounding thoughtful and seeming to be contemplating what advice to give, however, the roguish smirk that lifted one corner of his mouth suggested that his next words weren't going to be completely genuine, "you could try talking about something other than yourself for a change."

Taken aback by Andy's bluntness, Daniel's posture straightened. "I see." He huffed a short laugh, but it did nothing to disguise the irritation that crossed over his features. "I just want him to get to know me better so that he will like me."

"Yea, well," Andy rolled the toothpick between his thumb and forefinger, "you should tone it down a bit," he finally popped it into his mouth, "try a less aggressive approach."

"Less aggressive?" Daniel took a defensive step forward, unknowingly proving Andy's point. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Andy barely managed to suppress an eye roll at Dunn missing the obvious. "You're trying too hard." When the other man continued to stare blankly back at him, his eyes finally did drift heavenward. "For example-" he didn't add anything else, just held out his hands with his palms up and slowly twisted his upper body to the left, then to the right, indicating the space around them.

"Ah," Daniel crammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels; realization had dawned on him, "the restaurant was a bit over the top."

"Rusty's more of a burger joint kinda kid," Andy said pointedly.

Daniel tilted his head up, then slowly lowered it again in a single nod and said, "I will keep that in mind."

"That's all the advice I have for you," Andy moved to lean against the wall so he'd be able to spot Rusty coming back down the hall from the bathrooms, "the rest you will have to figure out on your own." In his head he added, _'Just like I had to do.'_

Thankfully, Daniel didn't say anything else while they waited, choosing instead to, unsurprisingly, focus on his phone. Andy sighed in relief when he caught sight of Rusty exiting the men's room, and felt bad for the kid when his steps faltered upon seeing that Daniel was still present. Andy shrugged helplessly when their eyes met, silently expressing his own confusion as to why the other man was still there.

"You ready to go?" Rusty addressed Andy, speaking louder than necessary, "I still have homework to finish."

Andy's eyes narrowed. "Been waiting on you, Kid."

"Rusty," Daniel chimed in as he pocketed his phone, "I feel like I still didn't get to know you much, what do you say I take you out again tomorrow night?"

"Oh, I, uh," Rusty began stuttering, caught off guard by the sudden invitation and he grappled for an excuse, "I may have a lot of homework tomorrow, so I'm not sure if that will be possible."

"Come on, I won't keep you late. We can just grab a quick bite from somewhere close to the condo." He paused briefly before, in a conspiratorial tone, adding, "We could go out for burgers."

Rusty shot Andy a look of betrayal, knowing he had to have said something about burgers being his favorite, and he was satisfied when his foster dad visibly winced. "Like I said," his gaze slowly turned to focus on Daniel again, "I might have a lot of homework and not a lot of time."

"Right, okay." Daniel was finally getting the hint, but it still didn't deter him from pushing one more time. "So, we'll make a tentative plan then," he wiggled his phone in front of him, "you can contact me when you get out of school tomorrow and let me know for sure."

"Sure," Rusty reluctantly agreed when it was clear Daniel wasn't going to give up, "I will let you know."

"Great," Daniel smiled triumphantly, "I look forward to your call." He gave Andy a single farewell nod before finally making his exit.

As soon as Daniel was out the door, Rusty whirled around to once more glare at Andy. "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours, of course!" Andy held up his hands in surrender, surprised by the extent of Rusty's ire. "But Rusty," he sighed and looked over at the kid sympathetically, "soon you might not have a choice in whether or not you go with him." He began waving his hand around sporadically as he scrambled for an explanation. "I just thought I'd make it more bearable for you by giving the guy a few pointers."

Rusty made a beeline for the exit. "I'm sure it was me you were thinking of," he sarcastically spat over his shoulder before forcefully shoving open the door and walking out.

Andy quickly followed behind him, just managing to slip through the door before it closed. "Hey," he barked out, yanking the almost forgotten toothpick out of his mouth when he almost choked on it. His better judgement had him pausing long enough to scan the parking lot, ensuring there were no witnesses, Dunn in particular, to the current scene they were displaying. Confident no one was around, he continued to shout at Rusty's retreating form. "I'm getting really tired of you second guessing everything I say and do." He practically jogged to get in front of the kid, bringing them to an abrupt halt on the sidewalk. He was now breathing heavily and he was forcefully pointing a finger in Rusty's face. "I think that by now I have more than proven you should be able to trust me."

Rusty wore a stony expression as he tightly clenched his fists at his sides, looking as though he was gearing up for a fight. Much to Andy's surprise, he suddenly released all of the tension in his body with a heavy sigh. "I know." Rusty slumped against the building, his head tilted up towards the sky. "I just feel like I'm being forced to get to know him, and I hate being forced to do things."

"No kidding," Andy supplied sarcastically and tossed the toothpick in the trash bin just a few steps away. When Rusty stared back at him unimpressed, he became serious once again. "I know this whole situation sucks," he was beginning to feel like a broken record, "but I think it's best you get to know the guy as well as you can before you really don't have any more options."

"Fine," Rusty pushed himself off the wall, "but don't expect me not to have any more complaints in the meantime."

Andy groaned lowly and clicked the unlock button on the key fob. "I would be concerned if you didn't."

Andy was feeling far from settled about the situation, but he was going to take Rusty's acquiescence as a win for the moment. He had no doubt that the kid would have plenty more objections before everything was settled, but he would continue dealing with them per usual—one at a time.

. . .

The following evening, Andy shut the door behind Rusty and Daniel with a heavy sigh. He wasn't used to feeling this conflicted. Dinner with Daniel and another opportunity to get to know the man was what was best for Rusty, and rationally, Andy was aware of this, certain that they were doing the right thing. Irrationally, however, he found himself, and not for the first time, wishing that what was best for Rusty turned out to be remaining in his care rather than Daniel Dunn's.

Those feelings aside, he found other things he worried about at odds with each other. He worried that Rusty would continue to refuse to give his biological father the benefit of the doubt, while simultaneously dreading that suddenly the two would hit it off, and consequently, Andy would be made redundant. Of course, given the progress he and Rusty had made so far, the latter scenario was a highly improbable one, but the desperate feeling of dread the mere notion of it caused was impossible to ignore.

It was with these thoughts on a torturous loop that Andy set about his kitchen to make some dinner. He wasn't exactly hungry. He was far too anxious about how Rusty's solo dinner with his father was going to even fathom holding down any food. However, he needed a distraction, and, worst case scenario, they'd have plenty of leftovers for the next day.

The veggie lasagna he settled on had been in the oven barely five minutes and Andy was just about done wiping down his kitchen counters when his doorbell rang. For a split second, illogically, he thought Rusty was already back, but then rapid, loud knocking followed, and he knew instantly who it was.

He swiped his kitchen towel over the counter one more time before discarding the cloth altogether, and then walked toward his front door. He didn't even bother taking a peek through the peephole, but put a scowl on his face and swung the door open. "Don't you have better things to do?"

Provenza scowled back, and not waiting for an invitation, brushed past Andy into his little foyer. "Well, of course I do." He slipped out of his jacket, draped it over his arm, and gave his partner an expectant look. "But here I am."

Andy closed the door and glared at him, unimpressed. "You don't need to check up on me."

"Who says that I am?" Provenza countered aloofly, then started walking down the hall toward the kitchen.

Rendered speechless for a moment, Andy remained rooted to the spot, only snapping out of it when he realized Provenza was already at the end of the hall. By the time he caught up with him, his partner had flung his jacket over one of the dining chairs and was now busy peeking into his oven. "Then why are you here?" Andy asked, annoyed.

Provenza made a face. "Well, I was hoping you'd feed me." He waved a hand at Andy's dish. "But I'm not eating this vegetable crap."

"Good," Andy bit out, walking past him and grabbing his kitchen towel again, "because it's not for you anyway." He started scrubbing down the rest of his counter.

"Oh," Provenza sounded mildly intrigued, "with the kid finally out of the house, were you expecting some more," he smirked over his next words, " _engaging_ _company_?"

"Sure," Andy responded sarcastically, rubbing an already pristine spot on his counter with particular vigor, "that's precisely what I was expecting." He paused just to try to wave Provenza out of his kitchen. "Do you mind leaving me to it then?"

Provenza barked out a laugh, and otherwise ignoring him, proceeded to inspect the fridge. "Ah, good," he said happily, straightening and holding up a soda can, "you stocked up."

Andy stopped mid-movement again and glared at him.

A lesser man might have balked at the irritated and quite dangerous gleam in Andy's eyes, but Provenza just took an empty glass off the dish rack, popped the can open and started pouring the drink into the glass. Playing obtuse, he then turned back to Andy and asked, "Oh, did you want one, too?"

Andy threw his hands out and gave the heavens an irritated look. On a half-groan, half-grunt, he turned on his heel and headed into his living room. Provenza could clearly fend for himself, so he made no effort to ask him to join him.

He made himself comfortable in his recliner and continued to ignore Provenza as he soon followed and took a seat on the couch. However, when he started looking at him intently just as he pointed the remote at the TV, Andy's ever growing irritation got the better of him and he barked out, "Now what?"

Provenza didn't even flinch. "So, the kid," he said simply, then took a sip of his soda.

Andy sighed and leaned briefly forward to place the remote on his coffee table. "The kid," he mumbled dejectedly.

"He's not gone yet," Provenza told him, hiding behind his glass.

"Yeah," Andy flopped his head on the backrest of his recliner, "it's the 'yet' part that has me worried." Anticipating his partner's response, he lifted his head quickly, and added, "And yes, I am fully aware that it's about doing what's best for Rusty, not me."

Provenza shrugged and let his glass join the remote on the table. "I don't blame you for worrying," he said rather gravely.

"What?" Andy frowned, pressing his palms into his recliner's armrests and pushing himself up to a more rigid sitting position. "Since when?" he asked incredulously.

"Since always," Provenza said, underlying his matter-of-fact tone by giving him a bland look.

For a few moments Andy could only stare at him blankly. The old man never really altogether dismissed his growing attachment to the kid or every concern that came with it, but to have the stubborn grouch give it merit, even if in only so many words, was close to a miracle. Andy would have been less surprised if Provenza suddenly whipped his wallet out and offered him money. Mischief, however, quickly joined Andy's thoughts and he smirked. "He's grown on you, too, hasn't he?"

"The hell he has," Provenza disagreed, shaking his head and folding his arms firmly across his chest.

Andy chuckled, but decided not to tease him further. Instead, more somber musings filled his head again, and he started fiddling with his hands, his fingers tugging at a cuticle as he debated whether to let Provenza in on his probably biased conclusions regarding Rusty's biological father or not.

Annoyed, Provenza cut through Andy's stalling. "Oh, would you just spit it out?"

Andy rolled his eyes, but stilled his twiddling fingers and spat it out as requested. "I don't like this guy."

Provenza scoffed and threw his arms out. "Shocking!"

Shoulders slumping, Andy sighed and shot his partner a bland look. "I'm serious," he said defensively. "There's just something about him," he clenched his fist and let his thumb press into the side of his index finger as he fought for the right words, "that makes me question his motives."

Provenza straightened a little, giving Andy an inquisitive look. "Motives?"

Andy shrugged, unclenching his fist and flopping it on the armrest. "He's awfully self-centered," he said lamely.

Provenza tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Had a look in the mirror recently?"

Andy glared at him, a derisive expression settling on his face. "You know what," he made for the remote control, intent on ignoring him until he finally left, "you can just kiss my-"

"Fine, fine," Provenza interrupted, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Self-centered how?" he asked, turning fully towards Andy as if to prove he would take him more seriously this time around.

Andy narrowed his eyes at him, deliberating whether or not to just drop the topic altogether. His anxiety getting the better of him, however, he gave up on the remote and found himself voicing a thought he had kept to himself until then. "Is he so insistently interested in Rusty because he genuinely cares about and wants to get to know him, or," he took a breath, knowing how his next words would sound, "is he taking him out for a test ride?" He shrugged. "To see if he's even worth the trouble of fitting him into his _perfect_ little family?"

Provenza leaned back into the couch, looking mildly intrigued. Andy watched him both expectantly and apprehensively for a few agonizing moments, and then his partner finally just asked, "Wouldn't you?"

Andy's first instinct was to object and disagree, but then the question gave him pause. He remembered the, to put it mildly, underwhelmed reaction his children had at the news of him fostering Rusty. It wasn't hard to imagine how they'd react if he presented them with another _biological_ child. He, too, would want to test the waters first. "Probably," he finally said, "but I'd be less obvious about it." When Provenza shot him a disbelieving glare, he scrambled for words to better explain himself. "It's one thing to evaluate the kid," he made a cutting motion with his hand and added, "I get that, it's understandable. But," he shook his head, "he's not doing just that. It's like he's trying to get Rusty to fit this mold of his already established family, and…" he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

Provenza nodded knowingly. "And Rusty's picking up on it, too."

"Exactly," Andy agreed, "and it's making him even more reluctant to give the guy a chance." He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Rusty's a pretty resourceful kid, he knows how to fit in if he has to, but-"

"He shouldn't have to feel pressured to fit in there," Provenza interjected, catching onto Andy's train of thought.

"You never should with family," Andy said bitterly. "And," he suddenly raised his words and leaned forward, "hasn't he done enough of that already?"

Provenza sighed and made himself more comfortable on the couch again, but in reality he was hiding his discomfort. They didn't know much about Rusty's brand of resourcefulness beyond what they could read in his file, but there was little more he thought they even needed to know. "You worried he's gonna pull some stunt tonight?"

"Who?" Andy scoffed. "Dunn or Rusty?"

Provenza frowned, but was denied a retort by the oven timer going off. Andy lifted himself off his recliner with a mirthless chuckle. "Saved by the bell," he said, already well on his way to the kitchen.

Not realizing Provenza was hot on his trail, Andy nearly dropped the entire dish when he said, "Order for one, please."

Andy turned around and found him smirking. Of course he had startled him on purpose. He laid the lasagna on top of his stove and wrapped the towel he used to get it out around the handle of the oven door. "Thought you weren't gonna eat my," he put up air quotation marks, "vegetable crap."

"Never said that," Provenza lied smoothly and went to one of Andy's cupboards to find himself a plate.

Andy rolled his eyes. "Well," he snuck a look under the foil covering his dish, "you're gonna have to wait a few more minutes then. It's gotta sit a bit first."

"Sit?" Provenza asked incredulously, putting the recovered plate down on the counter.

"What?" Andy's voice took on a defensive pitch. "It has too cool off a little. You know," he shrugged, "let the pasta soak up all the sauce."

"Soak up the-" Provenza started to repeat, a bewildered expression on his face now. " _Who_ are you?"

Andy glared at him. "You're free to go home and be your own cook, you know?" he suggested pointedly.

"Fine," Provenza muttered, turning around on his heel to walk back to the living room, "Chef Flynn," he added mockingly.

Andy rolled his eyes and, in an attempt to expedite the process of cooling down his lasagna, completely lifted the foil off it. Then he grabbed a plate for himself and utensils for the both of them, and went to set the table. Provenza, of course, saw him and hollered after him when he disappeared from view.

"What's wrong with eating in front of the TV?" The words were followed by the electronic in question coming to life.

Andy just put everything down on the table haphazardly, and shuffled back into the kitchen. Glaring at the back of his partner's head, he growled back, "You staining my couch in the process is what's wrong with it."

Provenza turned around. "When did I ever stain your precious couch?" he asked him on an eyeroll.

Andy just shot him a sarcastic look over the counter as if asking, 'When do you _not_?' and started looking for some napkins.

"Flynn," Provenza shook his index finger at him, "you have got to get out more." He turned his focus back to the TV and added in a low grumble, "You've turned into a world class housewife."

Having located his napkins, Andy briefly contemplated bunching them up and throwing them at his partner's head, but decided he had heard enough of his complaining for one night. Instead, he recovered a couple of glasses and returned to the dining room to continue setting the table. His last order of business was carrying over the lasagna, and once he did, he realized the sooner he put some food into his partner, the sooner he'd be out of his hair. Five minutes would just have to do for the lasagna to cool off, so he yelled for Provenza to drag his hungry butt to the table.

What Andy forgot, however, or most likely chose not to remember, was that Provenza's complaints were impossible to quiet down so easily. He had helped himself to a large, unhealthy serving and, ignoring the warning steam that was wafting off his overfilled plate, dug into the food enthusiastically.

"Son of a–" Provenza exclaimed, his mouth wide open as he let out little huffs of air and waved a hand in front of his stuffed mouth.

Andy laughed, making a show of neatly plating his own, much more appropriately sized, portion and not digging into it greedily like his partner. "Too hot?" he asked, feigning concern, but his voice shook with even more barely contained laughter.

Provenza scowled at him. "Damn right it's too hot!" he said after hastily chewing around his scalding mouthful and swallowing it down. "And a helluva lot of good letting it _sit_ did." With a disgusted look on his face, he dragged his fork through part of his lasagna that contained a particularly large amount of vegetables. "This green stuff still tastes like crap."

With emphasis, Andy carefully blew on his forkful, then, chewing thoughtfully around his bite, said, "Tastes pretty darn good to me." His tone indicated he had no clue what his partner was grumbling about.

Provenza rolled his eyes at him, then petulantly rested his chin on his elbowed hand and continued to eat. "Is Dunn a vegetarian?" he suddenly asked, curious.

Andy's brow drew together in puzzlement. "As far as I know, no," he answered, a quizzical note to his words.

Provenza grinned. "Good, that's one point in his favor then."

"Oh," Andy scowled at him and pointed his fork at him, "just shut up and eat!"

Provenza did shut up, _and_ eat, but not before smirking and straightening in his seat, looking very much pleased with himself again.

Andy thought his eyes might permanently get stuck rolled back into his head when Provenza, naturally, did not heed his order for too long, and started talking his ear off with his usual gripes about everything and nothing. However, as his partner took his leave shortly after dinner, and Andy was left to his own devices again, he felt a surge of gratitude toward the old man.

Without the distraction Provenza provided, Andy went about clearing the table and stacking the dishes into the dishwasher with his thoughts continually drifting toward Rusty and how his evening might be going. Even relaxing back in his recliner and flipping through the TV channels didn't help his wandering, worried mind.

His partner might be a pain in the ass, but at least he had cut the mental torture his concern for Rusty inflicted on him in half.

….

Once Rusty was inside the condo, he briefly considered going directly to his room, but he knew Andy was waiting up on him so he followed the muted sounds of the television down the opposite hall. Even though he had just eaten, out of habit, he found himself walking directly to the refrigerator and opening the door to inspect its contents. He came across some tupperware that looked like it contained some lasagna Andy must've made while he was out, and it was almost enticing enough for his stomach to consider making a little more room, but his better judgment won out and he simply grabbed a bottle of water instead. Closing the door, he glanced towards the living room to where he found Andy sitting in his recliner, flipping through channels with the remote.

Rusty approached the small sofa and rather than walking around it to take a seat, he flipped his body over the back of it, landing haphazardly on his side. He rearranged his body so that his head was propped against one armrest and his legs were draped over the other. Finally satisfied with the position he settled in, he rolled his head to look at Andy and smiled cheekily when he noted the surly expression on the man's face. "Hey."

Andy rolled his eyes. He had lectured the kid multiple times on the proper way to sit on a couch, but that still didn't stop Rusty from treating the furniture like a bouncy house. He didn't bother wasting his breath this time. "Hey, Kid," he responded as he muted the TV, "how'd it go?"

"Well," Rusty began picking at the label on his bottle, "he only talked about his life half of the time tonight."

"I can't believe he still could find things to say about himself," Andy said, feigning surprise. "I thought for sure we heard it all last night."

A small smile twitched at Rusty's lips. "I have a feeling it's his favorite topic and he never tires of it."

Andy snorted out a short laugh. "You're probably right about that."

Rusty was quiet for a few moments as he thought over everything he and Daniel discussed at dinner. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Andy waiting for him to say more. "We, uh," he unsuccessfully tried smoothing back down the corner of the label he had peeled up, "talked a little about my mom."

"Oh, yeah?" Andy shifted onto his hip so he could look at Rusty more directly. "What did he have to say about her?"

"Not much." Rusty shrugged as he continued to fiddle with the wrapper. "I get the impression that they didn't really know each other. Well," he tugged the corner of the paper forcefully with his fingertips, causing it to slip off the bottle and roll in on itself, "just enough to make a kid and that's it."

"Yea," Andy sighed and dropped his head back, "that happens more often than you think."

Rusty didn't want to dwell on the reckless decisions of some people so he steered the conversation in a completely different direction. "Anyways," he tossed the now balled up paper onto the coffee table, "Daniel wants me to spend the weekend at his house."

Andy's head whipped up so fast it caused his neck to twinge. "Wait, what?" He rubbed at the aching muscles. "As in overnight?"

Although he should be worried that Andy seemed so concerned by the idea of him staying the weekend with Daniel, it strangely comforted Rusty that the other man seemed to have the same reaction he did upon initially receiving the invitation. He had a feeling Andy's objections mostly had to do with him just leaving in general, and he was touched by the sentiment.

"That's usually what a weekend entails," Rusty retorted sarcastically, hoping to disguise the nervousness he was feeling.

"Did you agree to go?" The apprehension was more than noticeable in Andy's tone.

"Not yet." Rusty cracked open the lid of his water bottle and leaned up slightly to take a sip. "I told him I would think about it."

"Not yet," Andy repeated. His brow raised when he looked at Rusty knowingly. "It sounds like you've already made up your mind."

Rusty sighed and sunk lower into the couch. "I just keep thinking about what you said about getting to know him before I'm forced to go live with him."

A satisfied smile transformed Andy's face. "I wasn't aware you were actually listening to me."

"Ha, ha," Rusty said dryly as he stared straight up at the ceiling. "I always listen," the corner of his mouth could be seen lifting towards a smirk, "I just don't always choose to follow your advice because it usually sucks."

Andy looked around to find something the throw at the kid, but the only thing small enough and within reach was the remote and he didn't want to risk breaking it. "You think you're such a damn comedian." He gave up his search and plopped back into the recliner with a grumble. "You're worse than Provenza."

Rusty set his water bottle down on the floor next to the couch, then laced his fingers behind his head. "I'm choosing to see that as a compliment."

"You would." Andy aimed the remote at the TV and turned it off because throwing it was looking more and more like a good option. "So," he said slowly, getting back to the more significant topic, "you're going to be spending a weekend with Daniel I-can't-shut-up-about-myself Dunn."

"It would seem so." Rusty briefly smiled at Andy's description of Daniel. "At least this way I can determine if I need to make a run for it before I'm forced to live with the guy."

"That," Andy pointed forcefully at Rusty, "is _not_ funny."

"Yea, well, I'm only half joking." Rusty dropped his feet to the floor, rising to a seated position and in the process, he kicked over the water bottle. He watched it roll across the floor and stop halfway between him and Andy, before looking up at the other man. "I don't particularly like the idea of living with the guy if he turns out to be an asshole." He tightly gripped the cushions on either side of his legs. "You and I both know that DCFS doesn't care how nice he is," his grip tightened to the point that his fingers ached, "as long as he seems suitable, that's good enough for them."

"Rusty," Andy pulled the lever of his recliner so that he too was sitting up right, "if it turns out that Mr. Dunn isn't the all-around nice guy he wants us to think he is," he leaned over the arm of the chair, making sure he had Rusty's attention, "then I will do everything in my power to make sure you don't go to live with him."

Rusty clucked his tongue in disbelief. "What could you possibly do to stop him from claiming his parental rights?"

"I don't know." Andy shrugged helplessly, but with a determined look and with more confidence than he felt, he added, "I would figure out something though."

Rusty rolled his eyes. "I won't hold my breath."

Andy got up from his chair and with a groan, picked up the discarded bottle. "Let's not worry about it until we have to," he walked the remaining couple of steps and held it out for Rusty to take, "yea?"

Rusty snatched the bottle from his hands. "That's the story of my life these days."

"I hate to break it to you," Andy managed a half-hearted smirk, "but it only gets worse the older you get."

Rusty looked up at Andy with a bland expression and with a tone to match, he responded, "Thanks for the reassurance."

"Can you just," Andy waved his hands around helplessly, beginning to feel repetitive in the request, "try and trust me, Kid?"

Rusty stood up from the couch and lightly brushed against Andy's shoulder with his own when he moved past him. He stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, but couldn't bring himself to look back at his foster dad. "You haven't let me down yet," he admitted quietly, "but there are some things that not even you have a say in."

Andy scrambled for something reassuring to say, but Rusty was right. Instead, he just lamely responded, "I know."

"Good night, Andy," Rusty mumbled, dejected, before heading towards his room.

"Good night, Kid." Andy replied in much the same tone.

This wait-and-see game they were currently playing was becoming harder and harder to keep up with. One way or another, it would all be coming to a head soon, and neither of them were particularly optimistic about the outcome.

* * *

-TBC-

A/N: Please leave us a review and let us know what you think. We love hearing from you!


	9. Chapter 9

Welcome to the finale of our take on season 1! We have decided to combine episodes 9 and 10, which led to us writing the longest chapter of our story so far. We hope you guys won't mind.

Before you tackle this chapter, however, we would like to thank you all for the wonderful reviews we have received over the past week. Seeing you enjoying this story is almost as fun as writing it, and it never ceases to put smiles on our faces, and continues to inspire our writing.

Without further ado… enjoy! :)

* * *

THE SAME, YET DIFFERENT - CHAPTER NINE

Andy sighed in frustration as he watched Rusty's retreating form stalk off towards the break room. He shook his head in a 'not now' manner when Provenza looked over at him with a questioning brow regarding the kid's outburst. Andy's qualms concerning Daniel Dunn were increasing by the minute, and it frustrated him to no end that there was little he could currently do about it. He had spent most of the previous night listening to Rusty complain about the weekend plans being changed, and normally Andy would've chalked it up to the kid's typical bellyaching when something inconvenienced him, but he saw the flash of disappointment in Rusty's eyes when he first read the text Daniel sent to inform him of said changes.

Despite initially dreading his visit with Daniel and his family, Rusty managed to allow himself to become slightly excited about the upcoming weekend. When it looked as though those plans were falling through, even though it was only a small amount of anticipation, Andy knew Rusty felt a significantly greater amount of disappointment. He had wanted to call Mr. Dunn right then and there and tell him to get his act together or he could forget about being a part of Rusty's life, but unfortunately it was not his decision to make. He considered his lack of control of the situation to be the most infuriating aspect at the moment.

In addition to everything he was dealing with at home, the case that Major Crimes had been called in on during the night also bothered Andy for a multitude of reasons. Much like Mr. Dunn's behavior, nothing about this case was making sense. His frustrations with it surmounted those from the previous evening and it was making for one hell of a headache. Andy wanted to kick himself for even allowing the thought ' _things could not possibly get any worse'_ to cross his mind because of course the moment it did, things naturally worsened.

"Sorry I'm late." Daniel Dunn's voice sounded from the entrance to the murder room.

"That's an understatement." Andy mumbled heatedly as he rose from the desk he was leaning against and turned to face his superior. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, Captain," he hooked a thumb in the direction of where Daniel was still standing at the entrance, "I'm going to go-" his voice trailed off and mentally he added to himself, ' _deal with this asshole'._

Sharon offered a brief supportive smile. "Take your time, Lieutenant."

Andy murmured apologies to the team for having to step out in the middle of the case and pointedly ignored the barely audible, "Don't do anything stupid," when he passed his partner's desk. He brushed past Daniel without saying a word and hardly spared him a glance as he headed in the direction of the break room. Andy set a brisk pace, not particularly caring if the other man kept up or not. He was still grappling with how best to handle this situation; on one hand he wanted to take care of Mr. Dunn himself, but on the other he knew that this was something that Rusty needed to do on his own. Again, he felt the frustrations of his hands being tied.

"Is something wrong?" Daniel questioned as he took a few jogging steps to catch up with Andy.

Andy came to a halt and glared at Daniel. "Yeah, you could say that," he supplied sarcastically before turning and disappearing down the next hall.

"You know," Daniel stopped just as he rounded the corner and had Andy in his sight again, "I'm getting the impression that you don't like me very much and I think that could be an issue."

Andy's stride faltered slightly, but he continued the few steps towards the break room to peek inside the window to confirm that Rusty was still waiting. Finding the kid slumped on one of the bar stools, he turned back to the other man and took two confrontational steps towards him, stopping just short of being in his face. "Whether or not I like you is the least of your problems," he practically growled out.

Taken aback by Andy's sudden aggression, Daniel held out his hands defensively, his jacket hanging limply between them, providing a poor barrier. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Attempting to tone down his hostility, Andy widened his stance and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "It means I'm not the one you should be concerned about."

Daniel's face twisted up in confusion. "Then who should I be concerned about?"

Andy rolled his eyes, irritated that he even needed to spell it out. He leaned forward slightly and his tone dropped dangerously low. "Your son."

"What's wrong with Rusty?" Daniel asked with a hint of panic, almost managing to sound genuinely worried.

"You're late," Andy said in a clipped tone. When Daniel's shoulders relaxed by this news, he took satisfaction in adding, "And now he doesn't want to spend what's left of the weekend with you."

Daniel pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a text screen. "But I texted him last night letting him know I couldn't pick him up until today." He held up the screen for Andy to see as if he needed proof.

Andy ignored the proffered phone, instead making a show of looking at his watch. "Which was supposed to be," he tapped a finger twice against its face, "two hours ago." He returned his hands back to his pockets and sarcastically added, "And apparently you couldn't be bothered to call."

"So I'm a little late," Daniel said nonchalantly as he repocketed his phone, clearly unconcerned by his tardiness, "I didn't think that would be such a big deal."

"It is to Rusty," Andy said flatly. "You know," he huffed a mirthless laugh as his gaze momentarily dropped to their feet. Taking an extra moment, he scratched his upper lip with his thumb before returning his gaze to Daniel and leveling him with a stare that could only be described as threatening. "The fact that I have to keep reminding you to be considerate of your son is really," his jaw clenched and he ground out the rest of his response, " _really_ beginning to grate on my nerves."

"I'll have you know," Daniel pointed a finger, "Rusty isn't the only one that this has been difficult for. This...this" his grip on his jacket tightened and his tone was becoming increasingly agitated, "problem-" his mouth snapped shut when he noticed Andy's frown deepen and his nostrils flare. He held up a hand, halting Andy from responding just yet. "What I mean to say," he began in a calmer voice, "telling Annie about Rusty has put me in a difficult situation and-"

Andy's scoff cut him off. "Don't talk to me about difficult situations," the corner of his mouth twitched up into a snarl, "you have no idea what a difficult situation even looks like."

Realizing the conversation was not going his way, Daniel momentarily at a loss on how he was going to smooth things over again and stared blankly up at Andy for a beat. "What can I do to assure you that I want to make this better?" With his jacket caught between them, he clasped his hands together in a pleading manner. "I _need_ to fix this."

"I don't trust you," Andy stated matter-of-factly, "and there's probably nothing you can do to change that." Not caring to listen to any of the other man's excuses, he turned and walked back to the break room door. "Lucky for you, I'm not the one you have to convince." Turning the knob, he pushed the door open and stepped just inside the room. "Rusty, you have a visitor."

Rusty didn't bother turning around, he just continued to write in the notebook he had opened in front of him. Daniel slowly entered the room and stopped at the first table he came to. He lightly rapped his knuckles against the top, then nervously looked back at Andy.

He was reluctant to leave, but Andy knew it might be best to leave the kid to handle this one for his temper was already getting the best of him. "Rusty," he waited until he noticed the slight turn of the kids head indicating he was listening, "If you're good here, there's a case I need to get back to."

Rusty finally turned and looked at Andy. "I've got this," he confirmed with a nod of his head.

"Let me know if you need anything," Andy paused momentarily and gave Daniel a warning look before focusing again on Rusty, "and let me know what you decide to do."

"I will," Rusty promised.

Andy exited the room once again, closing the door on his way out. He hesitated outside for just a few moments, reluctant to leave Rusty to deal with everything on his own, but he also hated shirking on his duties for a case once again, even if it for Rusty. At that moment he caught sight of two uniforms walking down the intersecting hall, one of them he recognized.

"Hey, Alvarez!" Andy called out to one of them just before they disappeared out of sight. He met them at the end of the hall so he would no longer need to raise his voice. Out of the handful of officers that had been assigned to keeping an eye on Rusty while he was in emergency care, Officer Alvarez was the one Andy had seen the most. "The kid is in the break room with, erm, with a visitor," he figured that was explanation enough, "do you mind just keeping an ear out?"

"Of course, Sir," Alvarez politely answered with a nod.

"I'm sorry," Andy shrugged apologetically, "I don't think it will take long, but I need to get back to this case we have."

"It's not a problem, Sir." Alvarez hooked his thumb towards the female officer standing next to him, "Banks and I have nowhere special to be."

Andy gave his arm a friendly pat. "Thank you."

Just before he turned the corner, Andy looked back to see both officers standing just out of sight of the break room talking casually. It was a relief to know that they would be there just in case even though he was certain it was probably unnecessary. Still, it allowed him to return to work with his mind somewhat at ease.

Just as expected, it wasn't long before Rusty poked his head into the murder, catching Andy's eye just long enough to tilt his head to the side in an invitation to follow. By the time Andy raised his eyebrows in understanding and silently let his team know he had to slip away for a moment, the kid had already turned around and started walking down the hallway. Andy had to break out into half a run to keep up with his pace. He was just about to tell him to slow down when Rusty came to a halt as they reached the hall leading to the elevators and turned on his heel to face him. "I've decided to go."

Andy skidded to a stop, too, and swallowed. "You have?" he asked worriedly, his eyes flickering over Rusty's shoulder toward Daniel Dunn. His temper instantly flared and he found himself clenching his fists in an attempt to calm down his ire when, once again, he noticed the man was typing away on his phone.

Rusty's bitter sounding chuckle snapped Andy out of his silent seething and he returned his focus on him. "He practically begged me to still go with him. Pretty desperately, too. Also," Rusty momentarily avoided Andy's gaze, hesitating, "I can tell when people want something from me and he," he lifted his eyes to meet Andy's and his voice dropped a little lower as he quickly side glanced the man in question, "wants something."

Andy sighed and, biting down on his bottom lip tensely, he glanced at Daniel, who was still paying them no attention. He had concluded as much himself, only he was much more inclined to just interrogate the guy the good old-fashioned way rather than send Rusty off with him for the weekend as if on a reconnaissance mission. Looking at Rusty again, he found him to be determined enough, but he still rubbed a hand anxiously over the back of his neck and asked, "You sure about this?" He took half a step closer to him, not knowing whether he was trying to talk himself into this or Rusty out of it. "Because yo-"

"I'm sure," Rusty interrupted on a vigorous nod of his head. "I," he cleared his throat and corrected himself, " _we_ have to find out what he wants, so…" He trailed off, tugging on the straps of his backpack. On a shrug, he added, suddenly seeming slightly insecure after all, "It's just one weekend."

"One weekend," Andy repeated, somehow not finding any more comfort in the fact than Rusty seemed to be, but he felt rather proud of his foster son's courage just then and decided to put on a brave face as well. "You," his hand made its way toward Rusty's shoulder on its own volition, but he managed to stop himself just short of touching him, "call me or text me if you need anything," it was a compulsion by then to somehow quell both his and Rusty's nervous energies and his hand finally did land on the boy's shoulder, giving it an awkward pat as he added, "okay?"

His gesture seemed to do the trick and the tension he detected in Rusty's shoulders eased up. To both of their surprise, he was not minding the contact at all. "I will." When Andy continued to look at him intently, his fingers twitching against his shoulder, he rolled his eyes just a little in exasperation, and added, "I promise."

At that Andy gave his shoulder a light squeeze before pulling his hand back. "Okay," he said, taking a calming breath. "Good," he added on a nod, more to himself than Rusty, but made no move to actually join Rusty's biological father who was yet to spare them more than a cursory glance.

"So," Rusty started, hooking his thumbs underneath the straps of his knapsack and swaying on the balls of his feet, "I guess I should get going."

Andy still remained rooted to the spot. "I wish you didn't," he blurted out before he could even try to stop himself. Trying to backpedal, he quickly added, "I mean, you have to, we both know that. There's really no way around it," he was rambling and nervously rubbing his fingers against his right temple, "but," he abruptly flopped his hand down to his side and shrugged sadly, "I wish I could have your back there, Kid."

Rusty smiled a little, nodding. "Yeah," he suddenly found his shoes entirely too interesting, and he dragged his foot up and down across the floor, trying to distract himself from the surprising comfort that Andy's words offered, "I wish you could come with me, too." He shrugged, not unlike Andy just had, uncertain in his assumption about what his foster father was trying so hard not to say.

The disappointed resignation in his last few words washed over Andy and settled somewhere low in his belly, and he expected the feeling to remain there until he returned, but for both their benefits, he shook himself out of it, forcing himself to ignore the unease that came with it. He smiled then, finding the fact that he and Rusty seemed to be on the same page oddly soothing. Finally managing to force his feet to move him in the direction of Daniel Dunn, he gave Rusty a gentle nudge to encourage him to follow. "Come on." He eyed Daniel, who had at long last torn away his focus from his phone at the sound of their footsteps, and inclined his head toward Rusty to whisper threateningly, "If he uses that thing while driving..:"

Rusty chuckled. "You'll arrest him?"

Andy smirked, but having reached Daniel, refrained from actually confirming the boy's suggestion.

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of him," Daniel said when Rusty walked past him toward the elevators.

He sounded sincere enough and proceeded to follow Rusty, but Andy's continued mistrust of him had him failing, or rather not even really attempting, to keep the low threat out of his tone when he replied. "I'll hold you to that."

Daniel's step faltered, and as he turned his head to look back at him, Andy could have sworn he swallowed, and it filled him with a strange feeling of satisfaction. Managing to intimidate the guy gave him an odd kind of reassurance. Perhaps, although he wouldn't hold his breath, it would encourage Daniel to be a little more considerate of his son's, rather than his own, needs. Daniel then offered a curt nod and passed Rusty to press the button for the elevator.

When Rusty looked back his way, Andy was swept over by a wave of emotion, sadness, worry and anxiety all rolled into one. He was wrong about that uncomfortable feeling in his gut earlier. It wouldn't remain there until Rusty came back, because It suddenly travelled up to his chest and found residence there in the form of a dull ache, which only intensified at the thought that soon Rusty might leave with his biological father permanently. "Rusty," he said thickly, not really knowing what to tell him first. To be safe? That he'll be waiting for him until he gets home? That he'll miss him? In the end he settled on something he hoped would be the case despite pretty much hating what that in turn might lead to. "Have fun, Kid."

There was a slight pause before Rusty nodded, and Andy hoped that perhaps he had somehow heard the thoughts he hadn't voiced, too. When the elevator pinged and its door slid open, Rusty threw Andy a half-hearted wave in goodbye and then followed Daniel into it. Once the doors closed and the two disappeared from view, Andy slumped his shoulders and heaved a deep sigh before making his trek back to the murder room. He just couldn't shake off the feeling that _something_ would happen, and it didn't help that he couldn't tell whether he was just being paranoid or if there was some subconscious logic behind his trepidation.

. . .

"Lieutenant Tao," Sharon turned from where she was facing the murder board to look at the man, "have you found anything interesting in Detective Connor's files on their fraud case?"

MIke whirled in his chair to face her. "Not yet, Captain, but," he glanced over his shoulder to the two stacks of files he had, one significantly smaller than the other, "I've only made a small dent." He looked back at her with a tired smile. "I will need to stay late this evening to get through the rest of them."

Sharon glanced at her watch and noted it was just past the end of workday. She doubted Taylor would approve of overtime for the whole squad, especially considering they had been called out in the middle of the night, but figured there was no harm in a couple of her detectives staying late. "Detective Sykes," she smiled when the young detective eagerly looked in her direction, "if you don't mind staying and assisting Lieutenant Tao with-"

"Actually, Captain," Andy leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his desk, "if it's alright with you, I can stay with Mike." He hit the home button on his phone, lighting up the screen. His shoulders slumped when he noted there still weren't any new messages since he last checked a few minutes ago. "God knows I could use the distraction," he mumbled to himself.

Sharon nodded in understanding. "Okay then," she turned to face the rest of the team, "the rest of you head home. I will see you all back here early tomorrow."

Sharon headed to her office and the rest of the team slowly filed out of the murder room, each bidding the two lieutenants farewell as they went. Provenza was the last to leave, making a point to stop by Andy's desk to tell him to stop fretting like an old lady or he wouldn't be of any help to Tao. It had garnered the response he was expecting of his partner—a scowl and an impolite gesture with his hand—which had him almost skipping out of the room with a smug expression on his face.

Once they were alone except for the Captain still remaining in her office, Mike swiveled in his chair to face Andy. "I'm going to get a refill before we continue," he held up his empty coffee mug, "need one?"

"Umm…" Andy grasped the mug that was sitting off to the side by its handle and tilted it towards him so that he could see its contents. There was at least two good sips worth left from his last refill, though they were surely long cold by now. He considered taking Mike up on the offer, but he could feel the nervous energy from the day still flowing through his body and ultimately decided against it. "No thanks, Mike, I'm good."

Once Mike set out to the break room, Andy sat staring blankly at nothing in particular for a few more moments before slowly easing himself out of his chair and making his way over to Tao's desk. He had grabbed his phone off his desktop on the way and was in the process of checking for messages once again when the Captain emerged from her office, her purse in hand and her coat draped over one arm.

"Still no word from Rusty?" Sharon casually inquired as she moved across the room to stand next to him.

Double checking that his ringer was in fact turned on, Andy responded on a sigh, "No," he dropped the phone into his pocket, "nothing yet."

Sharon smiled encouragingly at him. "You'll hear from him by tonight." Her confident tone indicated she was certain that would be the case.

Although it didn't reach his eyes, Andy returned the smile before responding, "I know." He then turned his attention to the larger stack of files and began sifting through them.

Still sensing there was more on his mind, Sharon stood quietly next to him and waited. She had quickly learned that Andy generally needed little prodding to get him to voice what was on his mind, and therefore was not surprised when he suddenly plopped the files back down on the desk and turned to fully face her.

"I just don't trust Daniel Dunn," Andy blurted out. Expecting his Captain to refute him in some way, he quickly continued on. "I know, I know," he unnecessarily held up his hands in a defensive gesture, "I'm _probably_ being irrational, and it's _probably_ because I'm letting my personal feelings cloud my judgment," his gaze dropped to the floor and he chuckled self-deprecatingly, "but I just can't shake this nagging sensation I have about that guy." Shrugging his shoulders and letting his hands drop to his sides, he met her eyes once again and, certain she would have several reasons why his thoughts were illogical, he steeled himself for her response.

Curling her lips in, Sharon pressed them together as she determined the most diplomatic way to address Andy's concerns. "You know," she began slowly, "I haven't had many encounters with Mr. Dunn, but when I did, I got this…" her hand made a circular motion as she grappled for the right word, " _wonky_ ," she cringed slightly at her word choice but continued on nonetheless, "feeling about him and I can't say that I trust him either."

Andy chuckled lowly and the first genuine smile of the day crossed his features. He found this new side of her they were getting to see very intriguing, but that was a thought to be filed away for another day. "So eloquently put, Captain."

Sharon rolled her eyes before playfully narrowing them on Andy. "I was simply using a term I thought you'd understand."

Andy chuckled once more before becoming serious again. "If _you_ don't trust the guy," all the apprehension he had been feeling suddenly became evident in his tone, "then I really should be worried."

Sharon mentally berated herself at the forlorn expression on his face. Her attempts to reassure him that his suspicions were not necessarily irrational only managed to intensify his other concerns. "Rusty is smart and he knows how to take care of himself." She ducked her head to catch his gaze that had once again drifted to his shoes. "He's going to be okay, Andy."

"I really wish I could believe that." Andy shrugged helplessly. "I hate that I'm not there with him."

"He knows that he can trust and depend on you now _and_ in the future." She paused to let that sink in. They both knew that at some point Rusty may be staying with his biological father permanently, but she suspected Andy needed a reminder that it didn't mean he had to let go of him completely. "That's more than anyone else has given him."

"Yeah, you're right," Andy agreed, but there was no conviction in his tone.

Sharon sighed, she wanted to say more, but realized that until Andy laid eyes on Rusty again, no words of reassurance were going to bring him comfort. She decided to go for the next best option, the distraction he had asked for earlier. "Now, Lieutenant," she held out one of her hands, "if you don't mind handing over a few of those credit reports, I will take them with me and look over them at home."

"You mean you don't want to stay here with us?" Andy asked in mock surprise, pretending to be offended, but still did as she asked and handed over a few of the files. "Tao," he turned to the other man who had just returned to the room, "the Captain doesn't find us to be suitable company."

"I will see you in the morning, Lieutenants," Sharon said pointedly, quickly putting an end to Andy's teasing before Mike could join him, though she doubted he would. She was, however, secretly pleased that Andy's mood had improved just enough to briefly catch a glimpse of his sense of humor once again. "Please call if you find anything useful before then."

"Will do," Andy confirmed as he took his own set of files over to his desk and took a seat.

"Goodnight, gentlemen."

"Goodnight, Captain," both men said in unison as she made her exit.

Once the sound of her heels receded, Andy and Mike turned their attention to their respective stacks of folders. Over the next hour they occasionally brought up something that might or might not be helpful to their case, but for the most part, they simply worked in silence.

That's why, too engrossed in the credit report in front of him, Mike did not pay much, if any, attention to the chime of Andy's phone when it echoed through the murder room. It was the sudden chuckle that followed moments later that tore his focus away from the computer screen and prompted him to swivel in his chair to look at Andy. His colleague had been nothing but bad and short-tempered the entire day, and even if he happened to emanate something akin to a laugh, it had been laced with either sarcasm or bitterness, which is why Mike's eyebrows shot up when even in the dim light he was able to make out a soft smile tugging at the older man's lips. Intrigued, he ventured a guess and said, "Rusty?"

Startled, for he had clearly not noticed having gotten Mike's attention, Andy's head abruptly snapped up at the question, but his smile widened. "Yeah." He turned his chair Mike's way and waved his phone. "Just checking in with me."

Mike nodded and smiled knowingly to himself. Andy had been periodically checking his phone, letting out quiet sighs and huffs of disappointment in response to what he saw or rather didn't see on it ever since the Captain had left. The reason for his obvious impatience wouldn't have been hard to deduce even if Andy hadn't already admitted he only volunteered for the all-nighter in order to distract himself from his foster son's weekend away. He was noticeably on edge, but Mike knew better than to bring it up in an effort to assuage his worries, so he simply focused on getting their work done, and ignored the fact that Andy's attempt at distraction was failing miserably. However, a simple text message managing to brighten Andy's mood this visibly, Mike considered rather endearing (not that he would ever let Andy know he thought so), and he couldn't resist prodding just a little more. "I'm guessing," he waved a small stack of papers through the air as he spoke, "his visit is going well so far then?"

Andy chuckled again, typing Rusty a quick text back. "I wouldn't go that far, but," he tilted his head toward Mike while his eyes continued to follow his fingers tapping away on his phone, "no 911 calls, so..." he trailed off, then, having finally sent his message, looked up at Mike and raised his eyebrow meaningfully.

Mike chuckled, too, and turned briefly toward his desk to discard the papers down on his keyboard. He didn't exactly mean to pry this much, but he only hesitated and stalled for a moment by picking up a pen to fiddle with, before curiosity got the better of him and he turned back to Andy. "Is he still reluctant about the whole situation?"

Andy sighed, locking his phone screen and placing the phone on his desk. He remained silent for a moment, but once deciding on his answer, he met Mike's eyes and said, "We both are."

This wasn't news to Mike. He and the rest of the team had overheard enough conversations between either Rusty and Andy themselves, or Andy and Provenza, to know that it wasn't just Rusty who was struggling to come to terms with the possibilities the latest developments had brought on them. "Rusty's really settled in with you, hasn't he?" He hoped Andy wouldn't take offense at the obvious touch of surprise, and even disbelief, in his tone.

He didn't. Instead, Andy chuckled and actually mirrored Mike's surprise by giving him a wide-eyed look and shaking his head incredulously. "I think that this is the first time in his _life_ , Mike," his features softened and another, slightly wistful, smile crept over his features, "that he's settled in _anywhere._ "

Mike nodded. "A miracle considering how," he smirked a little over his next word, " _explosive_ your start was."

Andy half-laughed, half-scoffed. "Yeah," he agreed on a nod of his own. He continued to sound surprised as he added more seriously, "We actually get along pretty well." Chuckling dryly, he tilted his head to the side and clarified, "When we're not busy arguing that is."

Mike laughed. "Kind of like," he pointed his pen at Andy, then at his partner's empty desk, "you and Provenza."

Andy barked out a hearty laugh. His voice dipped low, the words verging on a groan, as he said, "You have no idea."

"It probably helps that both of you seem to be," Mike paused, rolling his pen between his fingers as he carefully chose his next words, "equally stubborn."

"Ha!" Andy let out, far from disagreeing, but he went on more seriously, his voice thinning for a second. "You know," he contemplatively rubbed a finger over his chin, "I think he just needed someone who wouldn't back down, no matter how difficult he was being." Lifting his hand from his chin, he twirled it around in a circle, and added, "I can't help but think he was testing me, you know, pushing me to see how long before I either put my foot down or gave up on him."

Mike had come to the same conclusion and started nodding his head understandingly. "And," he gave his knee a single tap with the pen, "Rusty's more used to the latter being the case."

Andy averted his gaze, looking intently at a random spot on the floor, and sighed sadly. "Yeah," he agreed quietly. "I think he finally started believing that I wouldn't kick him to the curb," he looked up at Mike again, "and then this," he struck a hand out in the direction of the entrance of the murder room, "Daniel Dunn guy shows up-"

Mike quickly interrupted, knowing precisely where Andy was going with this. "He knows you're not trying to get rid of him, Andy."

Andy nodded. "Yeah," he said on a sigh, "I guess he does, but…" he trailed off, giving Mike a helpless shrug.

"That doesn't mean you won't have to _let go_ of him," Mike finished his thought, shrugging as well.

Andy's shoulders slumped and he turned his chair to face his computer. "No," there was a touch of finality to the word as if he was ready to drop the subject and return to work, "it doesn't."

Mike, however had no intention of going back to work just yet, and continued to look at him, considering the older officer for a moment. He was suddenly compelled to do or say something to lift Andy's spirits. It wasn't the first time that he had seen Andy resigned, but he couldn't recall ever seeing him resigned to this big a degree, and what was more, this helpless and disheartened. "You know, Andy," he started, waiting a beat, until the man looked at him, "what you've done for Rusty in such a short amount of time is remarkable." He waved his pen through the air. "Even if Dunn does get custody of him, and it does turn out for the best, I think he lucked out being dropped into your lap for as long as he did."

Andy shook his head, but smiled, appreciating Mike's praise even if it wasn't praise he was after when he offered Rusty a roof over his head. " _I_ lucked out here, Mike," he disagreed. "He's driving me crazy more often than not, and he's turned my life more than a little upside down, but I wouldn't change all these weeks with him for anything." He suddenly laughed and pinned Mike with a look of pure astonishment. "Who'd have thought I'd get this attached, huh?"

Mike didn't laugh, but smiled in understanding. "I think we're _all_ attached, Andy." He finally did laugh, and added, "Even Provenza."

Andy offered another smile in return, but along with his earlier humor it faded away quickly, and he plucked a paper from the stack next to his keyboard, once again preparing to return to work. "I just hope," he was muttering more to himself than Mike, "he has the same effect on Dunn."

"Yeah," Mike said, and knowing there was nothing more he could add to that, he, too, turned back to his computer, intent on returning to work. However, before he could even try to remember what he was in the middle of doing before Rusty's text message had interrupted them, Andy spoke again.

"After all the stunts his mother pulled," his tone was low, laced with contempt for the stunts in question, "I'm not sure Rusty'd be able to handle another parental disappointment." Mike turned his chair around again, and found the piece of paper Andy had taken a second ago slightly crumpled in his hand as his eyes burned a hole in his keyboard. "If Dunn messes this up, I'm not sure I will be able to either."

That Andy was distrustful of Rusty's biological father was no secret. Truth be told, Mike wasn't entirely trusting of the man himself. Being two hours late for what was supposed to be an exciting weekend to get to know each other was just one of the reasons why. "If Dunn messes this up, he'll have the entire department to answer to."

Andy looked at him, his grip on the paper slackening. "Thanks," he nodded somberly, "that means a lot."

. . .

Andy collapsed back against the front door the moment it closed and let out an exhausted sigh. Due to the case, he hadn't been home in close to forty-eight hours and despite previously dreading the silent loneliness in Rusty's absence, he was now actually relieved to be back. He hadn't received an update from the kid since earlier that morning and a huge part of him was concerned about that fact. Nevertheless, he was trying to remain optimistic by forcing himself to believe that Rusty was simply having too much fun and hadn't found the time to message or call.

After the Captain had called Mike and him with her plan, the case quickly picked up momentum, and he didn't have much time to worry about his foster son; he had finally received the distraction he was looking for. Now that the case was closed, however, he found the incessant worry was creeping back up on him. He had managed to stave it off a little longer by catching a much needed meeting on his way home, but here in the confines of the walls of his condo, with nothing more than the television to distract him, he was already finding it very hard to not want to check his phone constantly. He had entertained the idea of sending Rusty a text himself, but he hated the idea of interrupting any potential fun the kid could be having and quickly disregarded that idea.

He let out another tired sigh as he tossed the keys he still held towards the bowl a few steps directly in front of him. That sigh turned into a groan when they completely missed the bowl and hit the edge of table it was sitting on before clattering to the floor. He stared blankly at them for a few moments, willing them to magically jump into the bowl on their own accord, but eventually gave in and pushed himself off the door to stoop and pick them up. This time when he groaned it was not out of frustration, but a response to how his body ached and his joints popped, a rude reminder that he was not so young anymore.

Once the keys were deposited in the correct place, he finally stepped out of the foyer and into the intersecting hallways that lead to the rest of the condo. It was then that he noticed the light in the hall proceeding to Rusty's end of the condo was on. When the kid first started staying with him, he had a penchant for leaving on every single light in each room he entered and it had taken a couple of weeks to mostly break him of that habit. These days, it was only occasionally that Rusty would forget to turn out a light and it was usually when he was leaving the condo in a rush or if he was distracted. Considering yesterday was the day Daniel was picking him up, Andy figured it was the latter option.

Normally Andy would've been there to remind the kid to turn out the light, but since he had been called to a crime scene in the middle of the night, he had merely swung by the condo on his way back to the PAB and texted Rusty to meet him downstairs. If he had made the trek up yesterday morning, there was no doubt that he would've chided Rusty about forgetting to turn everything off and been rewarded with the same eye roll that Rusty typically responded with. Just thinking about the now familiar exchange brought a small smile to Andy's face. That smile turned into a perplexed frown the moment he switched off the hall light and the dim glow emanating from beneath Rusty's bedroom door became noticeable. It wasn't that the light was left on that confused him considering the same had been done in the hall, but the fact that the door was closed. Rusty always left the door open when he left his room.

Andy slowly walked the short distance to the end of the hall and stopped just outside Rusty's bedroom. He paused, leaning his ear towards the door and listened for any noise coming from the room. Not hearing anything, he raised a fist and knocked rapidly on the door.

"Rusty," he tentatively asked, "you in there?"

He heard some shuffling and there was an extended paused silence before a muffled "I'm fine," came from the room.

Andy's frown deepened, that wasn't necessarily the question he asked, and it brought forth a whole slew of others, namely the next one he asked. "What are you doing home already? I thought you were staying at Daniel's until tomorrow."

There was another long pause before Rusty answered once again, this time his voice sounding slightly louder, indicating he was now standing just on the other side of the door. "Something came up so I came home early."

"What suddenly came up?" Andy was becoming increasingly suspicious of Rusty's vague responses. "And why didn't you call me?"

"It's nothing," Rusty quickly responded, trying to sound reassuring but not actually succeeding. "I'm tired, can we just talk tomorrow?"

Now Andy was suspicious _and_ annoyed. Bracing his hands on either side of the door, he spoke slowly and with enough warning in his tone so that the kid wouldn't twice think about arguing with him. "I think you need to open this door right now and tell me exactly what's going on."

"Fine. Just–" Even through the door the quiver in Rusty's voice was detectable. "Just...just don't freak out, okay?"

Andy's grip on the door frame tightened because nothing good ever followed that sentence. "Please open the door," he said as calmly as he could manage.

The quiet sounds of the lock being turned filled the deafening silence as Andy anxiously waited on the other side. Initially, Rusty opened the door just a crack, but Andy's impatient sigh prompted him to swing it open the rest of the way. He stared at his feet for a few more beats before finally lifting his gaze to meet his foster dad's.

At first Andy was silent and motionless as he examined Rusty's face, but once he realized that the bruise surrounding his eye and the busted lip were not a figment of his imagination, his anger fully erupted.

"What the hell happened to your face?" Andy's voice reverberated loudly in the quiet condo.

At the same time as he shouted, he had abruptly taken a step into the room, attempting to get a better look at Rusty's face in the light, but only succeeded in scaring the kid even more. The way Rusty flinched and flung his hands up to protect himself had Andy cursing at himself and quickly retreating back into the hall.

Although his anger was still very much detectable by the stony expression on his face and by the way his fists were clenched tightly at his sides, in a much softer tone he once again asked, "How the hell did your face get busted up?"

"Daniel and I," Rusty's face dropped once again as he fumbled for his words, "we sort of...had a...misunderstanding."

"What kind of misunderstanding?" Andy asked through gritted teeth. However, before Rusty could respond Andy continued speaking. "You know what," he pointed a finger, "it doesn't really matter because I'm gonna kill him." He immediately pivoted on his heels and began storming down the hall back towards the front door.

Rusty was hot on his heels though. "Where are you going?"

"To have a little chat with Daniel Dunn and sort out this _misunderstanding."_ Andy sneered as he said the word.

Rusty reached out to grab Andy's arm, hoping to stop him. "Are you sure that's a wise idea?"

"Probably not," Andy shook Rusty's hand off, "but I'm too pissed off to care right now."

"All the more reason for you to stay here." Rusty reached around Andy's back and snatched the keys from the bowl before he could pick them up.

Andy turned to face Rusty, one hand was braced on his hip and the other was held out in front of him with his palm up. "Give me the keys, Rusty."

Rusty shook his head and hid the keys behind his back. "You're not thinking clearly right now."

"Sure I am." Andy leaned in closer, bending slightly so that he was eye-level with Rusty. A maniacal smile crossed his face as he deliberately spoke. "I'm gonna go over to Mr. Dunn's house and give him a taste of his own medicine." One side of his mouth twitched up, turning his smile into a sneer. "See how he likes it. Now," he made a 'give me' motion with his fingers, "hand over the keys."

"That's a stupid idea and you know it." Rusty took a large step back, but he still stood his ground against Andy. "What do you think will happen to me once DCFS finds out about you beating the crap out of Daniel? Do you think they're gonna let me stay with you or him?" He flung his hands out in desperation. "Then where will I go?"

Both of Andy's hands dropped heavily down to his sides and he straightened back to his full height. It wasn't necessarily Rusty's words that finally gave him pause, but the panicked tone they were spoken in combined with the unshed tears that were pooling his eyes. Andy examined his face for the second time in two minutes, this time noticing the fear that Rusty was no longer able to suppress. He also noticed that the kid's lip had started to lightly bleed again, no doubt from arguing with him.

Despite appearing calmer than a few seconds before, Andy was anything but. However, he was thinking more rationally and quickly formed a new plan. He brushed past Rusty as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and headed towards the kitchen. Not bothering to locate the number in his contacts, he forcefully punched the buttons as he dialed the number from memory. He had made it all the way to the kitchen and opened the freezer door by the time his call was answered.

"Provenza," he barked out, not allowing his partner to finish grumbling about the late hour of the call, "I want Daniel Dunn arrested, and I want him arrested now."

Provenza groaned. "What the hell are you going on about now?"

"I said," Andy spoke slower, his tone even more frustrated and annoyed than before, "I want Daniel Dunn arrested. Now."

"Flynn," Provenza sighed, his own frustrations bubbling up, "we're gonna need a reason other than you not liking the guy to do that. You know I don't like the situation any more than you do, but–"

"I have a good reason," Andy interrupted him, his voice increasing in volume to a shout as he continued on. "I came home and found Rusty with his face busted up!"

There was a brief pause before Provenza responded. "I'll be right there."

"Fine!" Andy shouted once more before he hung up and tossed the phone on the counter next to the refrigerator. He stared blankly into the still open freezer until he remembered why he had gone to it in the first place. He grabbed one of the multiple ice packs that he still had from that time he was attacked outside his AA meeting and slammed the door shut once again. When he turned, he found Rusty nervously perched on the edge of a barstool on the opposite side of the island. He gently tossed the ice pack so that when it landed it slid a short distance before stopping right in front of the kid. "Put that on your face," he pointed at the object, "I'm gonna go get a first-aid kit." He then headed towards his bedroom.

"We're past the ice stage," Rusty called after him.

"Do it anyways," Andy shouted over his shoulder, letting Rusty know he was not to be argued with.

Once inside his room, he just barely managed to not slam the door shut behind him. He had come into the room to grab his first-aid kit which was under his bathroom sink, but decided it would be best to take a moment to cool off first. His temper had already frightened Rusty once, he didn't want the kid to feel threatened again because he couldn't keep a lid on it. Shrugging out of his jacket, he tossed it across the foot of his bed, then proceeded to do something he rarely did—roll up the sleeves of his shirt. His hands were itching to do something, and in lieu of planting his fist through a wall, or better yet Daniel Dunn's face, this was his only option. His breaths were coming in short, quick successions so he reached up to loosen the knot of his tie. Initially, he struggled to get a good grip on the fabric, but eventually managed to untie it using both hands before ripping it from around his neck, causing the tail end to snap when it released from the collar.

Andy sank down onto his mattress, not caring that his suit jacket was now crumpled beneath him. With his tie still gripped tightly in his hand, he braced his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his palms. Daniel wasn't the only person he was mad at, he was also mad at himself, probably more so than the other man. His gut had been telling him all along that Daniel was bad news, but by trying to do what was best for Rusty, he went against his better judgement, and this is what happened. Deep down he knew there really wasn't much he could've done to keep Daniel at bay, but that didn't prevent him from wondering what if he had dug his heels in a little more and insisted on being present every time they met up, then this might not have happened. But then again, he also found himself thinking that it might have only delayed the inevitable and it could be for the best that this unfortunate event occurred while Rusty was still technically in his custody. That thought, however, only pissed him off more because what kind of awful person was grateful for the impeccable timing of a kid getting physically assaulted by his biological father.

Andy sighed and dropped his hands, letting them hang down between his knees. The truth was that there was no good scenario for this situation because it was just shitty all around...but mainly for Rusty. He may not have been able to prevent this from happening, but he would make damn sure it never happened again. He wouldn't say that his anger had abated, but he found his resolve, and that was to make sure Daniel Dunn paid for what he did, one way or another. He sat there for a few minutes longer before leaving his tie lying next to his jacket and rising from the edge of the bed to finally retrieve the first-aid kit he initially came in the room to get.

Walking back to the kitchen, Andy found Rusty still sitting at the bar top with the ice pack lightly pressed against his face. Just as he set the kit down on the counter, the doorbell rang, alerting him to Provenza's arrival. A small frown creased Andy's brow. He must've been in his room longer than he realized. His partner lived close by, but not _that_ close.

Rusty accidentally dropped the ice pack into his lap, then fumbled with it until finally placing it onto the bar top. "Who's here?" he asked with a tinge of panic in his tone.

"Relax, Kid," Andy patted Rusty's shoulder as he walked behind him towards the door, "it's just Provenza." Before disappearing down the hall, he pointed to the object on counter. "Put that back on your face."

When Andy opened the front door, he was surprised to find not only his partner at the door, but the Captain as well. He looked back and forth between the pair standing shoulder to shoulder a few times before finally stepping back and fully opening the door for them to enter. "You two drive over together, too?"

Provenza scowled at his partner "Of course not!" He then pushed past Andy, his chin lifted defiantly. "She was waiting downstairs when I arrived."

Before their bickering could escalate any further, Sharon turned to Andy as he shut the door behind them. "Where's Rusty?" she asked, getting straight to the point.

Andy pointed down the hall. "In the kitchen."

Knowing where to go, Provenza didn't bother waiting for Andy to lead the way, he just started walking down the hallway. "What exactly happened?" he asked over his shoulder.

The Captain had asked him the same question when he called her, but had no details for her. Due to Andy's apparent level of anger over the phone, he had figured this was something best handled in person and hadn't stayed on the phone long enough to gleam any real answers. His partner had seemed to calm down to a degree though, so he reckoned now was as good a time as any.

"I'm not really sure," Andy replied with a shrug.

Provenza stopped halfway down the hall to turn and look at his partner. "What kind of detective are you?"

"Look," Andy stepped forward and pointed a finger in Provenza's face, "it's taken every ounce of control I have to not go over there and just shoot the prick, so why don't you cut me some slack?"

"Gentlemen," Sharon said in warning, "how about we go talk to Rusty and find out?" She made a flicking motion with her hand, indicating for Provenza to keep walking.

Rusty had heard them as they were coming down the hall and he turned around on the stool to face the entrance when they walked into the room. There was a simultaneous "Ye, Gods," from Provenza and a small gasp from Sharon as she brought her hand up to her lips when they both got a look at him.

Rusty lifted a hand to his face and gingerly pressed around his eye and cheek. "It's not that bad."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Andy grumbled as he stepped up next to Rusty and opened the first-aid kit.

"Before you do that, Andy," Sharon stopped him as he pulled an alcohol swab from the box, "we should probably take a few pictures for documentation."

"Right." Andy nodded as he dropped the swab packet back into the box. He began looking around and patting his pockets in search for his phone, not remembering where he had last left it.

"Here," Sharon said, pulling her phone from her back pocket, "use mine." She unlocked the phone and pulled up the camera before handing it over to him.

"Thanks," Andy muttered as he held the phone in front of the kid's face. "Hold still."

Rusty rolled his eyes, but did as he was asked. Andy quickly took a few pictures, making sure to get several angles before handing Sharon back her phone. Everyone's attention being focused on him, in combination with the tense silence, was beginning to make Rusty nervous. That feeling intensified when the Captain focused her sympathetic gaze on him and asked if he could explain what had happened.

"Well," Rusty started nervously, dropping his gaze to his lap as he began to fiddle with the edge of his shirt, "Annie, his obnoxious fiance, was asking me all these, like, really personal questions about, like, how I'd gotten along without my mother."

As Rusty relayed the details of what had transpired, Andy could feel what little control he had gained over his temper slipping. By the time Rusty ended his story with "And then he hit me," he was even angrier than when he first caught sight of the kid.

"So, the asshole was once again only thinking of himself and got pissed when something wasn't going his way." He ripped open the packet he had once again picked up and yanked out the swab from inside. "What a surprise," he snarled out sarcastically as he pressed it against Rusty's lip a little too forcefully.

When Rusty winced, Sharon stepped up. "How about I do that, Andy?"

She had noticed that Andy was becoming increasingly more agitated as Rusty spoke and she was becoming concerned with where he was currently directing that anger. She knew that Andy wasn't mad at Rusty, but she also didn't want him to unintentionally hurt Rusty further. Provenza must have noticed as well because he also spoke up.

"Flynn," Provenza began walking towards the living room, "let's go get some fresh air." As he walked behind his partner, he snagged a part of the back of Andy's shirt between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a light tug.

Andy's shoulders slumped in shame. "Yeah, okay." He dropped the swab onto the counter and mumbled a quiet apology to Rusty before following Provenza outside.

Once the two men left, Sharon picked up where Andy had left off and began dabbing at Rusty's lip with a new swab. This time when he winced it wasn't from too much pressure being applied, but the sting of the alcohol, and even though it was not her fault, she apologized repeatedly.

Rusty watched her intently during the entire process. This definitely was not the first time someone had used him as a punching bag, but it was the first time someone made the effort to care for him afterwards. He found it equally unsettling and intriguing that that someone was a person he hadn't really known, much less liked, that long ago. Other than Provenza and Buzz, and Andy of course, the Captain was the only other person from the squad that Rusty had spent any real time with over the last few months.

Once he got over his dislike of her, for reasons he couldn't even remember now, he realized she was nothing like he initially thought. She was clearly dedicated and focused on doing her job right, that much was obvious, but Rusty had come to realize just how thoughtful Sharon Raydor was. Her thoughtfulness didn't only pertain to working a case when he'd often observed her sit back listening to her team as the wheels turned in her mind, but she was considerate of those around her. There had been many instances while the team was out in the field that it would be just her and him left in the murder room. Rusty generally kept to himself, but many a time she had stopped by his cubicle to check in on him and see if he needed anything. The first time she did, he was a bit surprised, but eventually he had come to expect seeing her head poke around the entrance of his cubicle at some point during the day. At first, he kept his response to the minimal "I'm fine," or "I'm okay," but eventually he started sharing small aspects of his day and she did the same. They didn't have much to discuss other than St. Joseph's or perhaps a few details from the teams' current case, and sometimes Andy, but still, he and the Captain had formed what he would call a friendly relationship.

Rusty was amazed by how different his opinion of her now was from when he first met her. Furthermore, he was awestruck just how different the Captain he had come to know seemed to be from the person that was standing before him now. He realized that for the first time he was getting a glimpse of Sharon. She was no longer the Captain asking him for details of the altercation with Daniel, she was now just Sharon, his _friend_ that was truly concerned with his well-being. He wondered just how many people got to see the true Sharon because she was always so guarded, which he supposed she had good reason to be, and it was another thing they had in common. Just like him, he suspected it wasn't very often that her walls came down and she let someone else in. It occurred to him in that moment that to have the friendship of Sharon Raydor was something pretty special.

Once she was done treating his lip, Sharon took a moment to survey the rest of his bruises up close. Gently brushing the hair out of his face, a pained expression crossed her features when she got a good peek at the discolored and swollen skin around his eye. Her gaze slid from his cheekbone to look him directly in the eyes. Her tone was soft when she asked, "How are you doing?"

Rusty knew she was inquiring about more than his bruises, and that combined with his new realizations about her, left him feeling self-conscious. "I'm fine," he shook his head and leaned back away from her touch, "it's really not that bad."

He quickly hopped up from the stool, turning away from Sharon's gentle, yet scrutinizing gaze. She didn't push him on the matter, instead focusing her attention on organizing and packing up the first-aid kit, and for that he was grateful. Nevertheless, he did feel bad for his brash reaction to her simply being kind and helpful, so rather than completely shutting her out, he decided to strike up a different conversation.

"You know," Rusty slowly began as he opened the door to the fridge, "I knew Andy would be mad, but I didn't think he would get _this_ mad." He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and just as he was about to close the door again, he realized he should probably grab one for the Captain, too.

"Hmm," Sharon nodded, "Lieutenant Flynn can be very," she paused mid-movement as she attempted to find the appropriate word, "passionate," she continued closing the lid on the box, "when it comes to something or _someone_ he cares about." She looked over at Rusty with a small, knowing smile.

Rusty let her words sink in for a moment as he slid the bottle for her across the counter. He never really thought about whether or not Andy actually cared about him, he always just assumed Andy was simply fulfilling his duties as a foster parent. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized Andy had actually gone above and beyond any of the other foster parents he had been with. He had even done more than his own mom had, particularly when it came to men using him as a punching bag. Sharon Beck had never reacted to seeing Rusty beaten the way Andy had. In fact, there were a few times she had sat back and done nothing. He had always told himself it was because his mom was afraid, but now, taking her most recent disappearing act into account, he wasn't so sure.

"That _passion_ ," Rusty said, thinking about how Andy had exploded earlier, intent on making Daniel pay, "doesn't always help him make smart decisions."

Sharon let out a little snort laugh. "Hmm," she gave another noncommittal hum as she pressed her lips together in an attempt regain her composure. She tilted her head to the side and looked over at Rusty thoughtfully. "It's one of the things that makes him a great detective though."

"Yeah," Rusty cracked open the lid on his bottle, "it makes him a pretty great foster parent, too." He quickly brought the bottle to his lips in an attempt to hide the embarrassment he suddenly felt for saying that out loud.

Sharon sensed that he was feeling self-conscious for his candid response and simply responded with a "Yes," before picking up the water Rusty had passed over to her.

Rusty appreciated that she didn't push or force him to share more than he was willing, and for that reason along with her letting her guard down for him, he found himself doing the same and answering her earlier question. "I really am fine, you know." When Sharon gave him a look that said she didn't quite believe him, he went on to clarify. "This isn't the first time something like this," he made a circular motion around his face, "has happened to me."

The sad smile Sharon gave him indicated she was not surprised by this news. "I'm sorry," she apologized again for the umpteenth time that night even though she was not responsible, but wanting him to know she hated that it had happened to him.

"Yeah," Rusty responded quietly, letting her know he appreciated her sentiment even if it wasn't necessary. "But," he gazed at her intently for a moment before turning it towards where Andy was standing on the balcony, "this is the first time that anyone has seemed to care." He looked at her once again, giving her a small, appreciative smile. "It's nice."

"Yes, it is," Sharon responded resolutely, telling him she knew exactly what he was saying.

Neither of them said anything after that, both content just to appreciate this quiet understanding that they had reached between themselves.

. . .

From the moment they stepped outside, Provenza had been subtly observing the interactions between the Captain and Rusty from the window. "Why does she have to suddenly seem so," his face twisted up in disgust, "normal?"

Andy was leaning over the balcony's guardrail, surveying the traffic below. He had finally managed to calm down and was simply relishing in the quiet before he had to go back in and deal with it all. He glanced over his shoulder at his partner and rolled his eyes. "Ever think she may have been normal all along?"

"Don't be an idiot," Provenza huffed. "You know," his tone had suddenly become a little too gleeful, indicating he was most definitely about to pester his partner, "you two are awfully friendly lately."

Andy recognized what his partner was trying to do, it wasn't the first time he had brought the topic up. Provenza had been hung up on the idea since Andy had been the first to step up and help their Captain out, and now every time the two of them had a civil conversation, Provenza over-analyzed the situation just to try and get a rise out of him. Tonight, however, he wasn't in the mood to indulge the man by participating in one of his little games.

Andy stood straight and turned to point a finger at the older man. "You're the one that called and invited her over tonight."

Provenza's face reddened and he returned the pointing finger. "Don't you dare try to turn this back on me, Flynn."

"What?" Andy asked not-so-innocently. "You _are_ the one that called her."

Provenza scowled, irritated that his plan had backfired. "Have you pulled your head out of your ass long enough for us to deal with this situation?" Not waiting for Andy to reply, he slid open the balcony door and stepped into the condo. "Captain," he called out loudly as he crossed the living room, "I'm hoping you have a plan because at this point I'd be content to just let Flynn shoot the bastard and be done with him."

Once a course of action had been decided on and Sharon and Provenza left, Andy and Rusty quickly called it a night, too. However, if Andy's remaining awake for hours as he still reeled from the evening's events was anything to go by, he doubted Rusty was faring any better than him when it came to relaxing and letting time do its job.

The following couple of days continued to keep them both on edge, when it seemed like Daniel Dunn wasn't smart enough to get their hint. Andy worried that Daniel's being a colossal idiot would ultimately force them into going along with plan B, and he was really hoping to spare Rusty the discomfort that would come with it.

So when Daniel Dunn finally did show up in the murder room, it filled Andy with relief, but also a dangerous amount of renewed rage.

"Lieutenant Flynn?"

The man's first words put an instant scowl on Andy's face, even before he turned around to lay eyes on him. Their case immediately put on hold, the team turned their attention to Daniel as well, and tried very hard to school their features and not mirror Andy's less than welcoming expression.

"Daniel," Andy said, the name coming out in more of a bark than in the civil tone he was aiming for. He took a few steps past his captain standing in front of him and drawled sarcastically, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Daniel's eyes scanned over the room's occupants and Andy smirked when he detected a flicker of fear in them. Daniel took a tentative step towards him, and obviously thinking he would at least get a warmer welcome from Sharon, he threw her a polite, albeit forced smile. His attempt at being charming was rendered moot, however, and his smile awkwardly faded when with an impenetrable mask of indifference on her face, she barely even acknowledged him and only offered a single, painfully slow, almost calculated nod. Having no other choice but to respond to Andy's question then, Daniel lowered his voice and finally addressed him. "I have left you and Rusty several messages, Lieutenant." He leaned forward as if trying to keep the matter between just the two them even though it was glaringly obvious everyone knew precisely what was going on. "I would like to explain what happened."

Andy crossed his arms and his scowl deepened. "Explain?" he asked, feigning an upbeat tone. He then suddenly dropped his hands to his sides to straighten, knowing he would be towering over the man enough to get into his face, and added through gritted teeth, "I can't wait to hear _that_ explanation."

Wide-eyed, Daniel leaned back, taking a clumsy step backwards, and put up his hands, gesturing nervously with them in a placating manner. "Andy, please," he glanced at the rest of the team again, "can we discuss this," he dared move in closer again and lowered his voice some more, "somewhere more private?"

"Oh, I'll give you p-"

Andy's response was cut short at the feel of a hand at his elbow. He turned his head to the right and was surprised to see it belonged to his Captain. She gave him a light squeeze and removed her hand once she was certain she had gotten his attention. A small, meaningful frown appeared on her brow before her eyes flickered toward her office and she tilted her head a little in the same direction. Just like that, Andy was reminded of the plan they had hatched out the previous night. Losing his temper and beating the man to a pulp the way he was itching to do just then had not been part of it. He took a deep breath, nodding his understanding at Sharon, then turned his attention back to Daniel. "Let's," he waved a hand invitingly at Sharon's office, "head to my captain's office then."

In obvious relief, and much too enthusiastically for anyone's liking, Daniel walked in the indicated direction, but Andy lingered behind for a moment, clearly needing a second more to get his emotions under better control. He gave his team one quick, courage-seeking look, pausing on his partner, and when he gave him a nod that was as close to a supportive "You've got this," as he would probably ever get from the man, he finally followed Daniel into the office.

"Uhm," Mike spoke, tilting his head toward Provenza, but watching Sharon's office with rapt attention once Andy closed its door, "is leaving them alone like that a good idea?"

Provenza shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "That's why the blinds," without sparing them a glance, he waved a hand at them, "are still open."

"If I was Flynn," Julio's voice held a bit of humor, but his eyes gleamed dangerously, "I'd close them."

"While I understand the sentiment," Taylor eyed them both warningly, planting his hands on his hips, "I do trust you," he suddenly looked sharply at Sharon, "to not let this situation escalate any more than it already has."

"That," Sharon paused only long enough to meet Taylor's frown with a casually raised eyebrow, "is entirely up to Mr. Dunn here." She returned her gaze to her office, slowly folding her arms.

There was an eerie calmness to her words and entire demeanor, so much that the whole team lapsed into silence as if it were them being threatened and not the man who had laid his hand on Rusty. Taylor visibly swallowed, and, for a moment stunned, merely stared at her, clearly more unnerved than reassured by her response.

It was Julio who seemed least bothered by the reminder of just how dangerous their Captain could be if she set her mind to it. His eyes still on the two men in her office, he let out a low chuckle, gaining everybody's attention. "It's fun watching him squirm." He sounded amused, too, but the way his eyebrows momentarily drew together made it also seem like he thought Daniel Dunn deserved much worse punishment than an uncomfortable conversation with Andy.

His words made the team look back to the men in Sharon's office, and indeed Daniel seemed even more nervous now, pacing back and forth in one or two steps, gesturing wildly and uncoordinatedly with his hands, saying whatever it was he thought would get him back into Andy and Rusty's good graces.

For his part, Andy stood still, leaning with the back of his legs against the edge of Sharon's desk and his hands folded loosely across his chest. One would have thought him rather relaxed, casual even, if not for the way his jaw was firmly set and the glare with which he was watching Daniel.

"If he clenches his jaw any more," Provenza spoke, his grave tone of voice at odds with the joke he was trying to make, "it might just snap."

Julio chuckled again, doing so alone. "His teeth don't seem to be faring much better either."

Provenza laughed mirthlessly, turning to face his desk rather than the office. He was serious, when he mumbled, "He'd better not forget to record that bastard."

"He won't," Sharon said with conviction, turning to look at him. She slowly shook her head and added a bit matter-of-factly, "He didn't."

"Yeah," Amy said when Provenza frowned at Sharon in confusion, "he got his phone out right away," she offered Provenza a small, teasing smile, "did you not see him place it on the Captain's desk, Lieutenant?"

The brief wide-eyed look Amy was rewarded with said he had indeed not seen that, but far too proud to admit as much, he just scowled at her.

Not at all intimidated by the grumpy Lieutenant, Amy's smile widened, nearly turned smug, but she refrained from riling the man up any further and quickly sobered as she returned her focus on Sharon's office. "He's grown to care a lot about Rusty, hasn't he?" she asked, watching Andy with a soft look on her face.

"That's an understatement," Mike said, thinking back to his conversation with Andy on Saturday evening. Sharon nodded once at him, humming in agreement. "I just hope," Mike went on, worriedly, watching Andy push off the desk and take a menacing step toward Daniel, "his temper doesn't get the better of him and ruin this for the both of them."

"Whose temper are you worried about?" Buzz asked sarcastically when Daniel for once did not flinch or back down, but seemed to even more enthusiastically defend his case. "Lieutenant Flynn's," Buzz glanced at Mike before his eyes returned to the conversation happening in his boss's office, "or Mister Dunn's?"

A few heads turned to him, none of them comfortable with the question and even less sure of its answer, and at the unexpected attention, Buzz shrugged apologetically and mumbled, "I'm just saying…"

"Neither, Buzz," Howard suddenly spoke, having stayed out of their discussion and focusing on his phone until just then. When everyone looked at him questioningly, he glanced at the office over the rim of his glasses, a pointed tilt to his head, where Andy was in the middle of flinging the door open.

"I just wa-," Dunn was saying, but cut himself off at the sight of not one, but eight pairs of hostile eyes watching him with undisguised interest. He swallowed, then looked at Andy again. "I-I," he stammered, his eyes flickering toward the team for another moment, "really wanna fix this, okay?" He punctuated his intent by making a flat cutting motion with his hand.

A corner of Andy's mouth turned upward forming a sly sneer of a smile. "Good luck with that."

At the obvious lack of support in Andy's response, Daniel frowned, his optimism and amiable attitude evaporating instantly only to be replaced by annoyance.

However, before he could scramble for a retort to match his new attitude, Andy added, "See you tomorrow, Mr. Dunn."

Daniel's eyes widened at the dry dismissal, but he straightened his jacket out, summoning what little dignity was left in him, glowered at the team, then nodded. "See you tomorrow," he said, taking his leave at a brisk, almost angry pace.

For a moment, everyone just stared at the disappearing figure of Daniel Dunn, but the second the man was out of sight and earshot, Andy bit out, his words nearly a hiss, "He was trying to _discipline_ the kid!" He curled his hands into fists. " _Discipline_!" he growled out, taking a seat at his desk and slamming his fists against the desktop, rattling several items on it noisily. "I should just arrest the dirtbag."

Provenza seemed more than willing to help with that course of action. "You still can."

"No, no," Andy shook his head, his gaze fixed on his hands as he unclenched them and flexed his fingers. "I have to do this right for Rusty." He was speaking more to himself than his teammates, but when he turned his chair toward them and saw the supportive looks on their faces, even Taylor's, he relaxed a little more and finally addressed them, shrugging helplessly. "He's a witness in one trial already, I am not adding him on the witness list for another." He looked between Provenza and Sharon and nodded in determination. "We stick to the plan."

"Your call, Flynn," Provenza mumbled, leaning back in his chair to downplay his actual concern.

"And I have to talk to Rusty about it," Andy added, speaking to himself again and completely ignoring his partner. He heaved a heavy sigh, and when he looked back at his team, he found expectant and sympathetic expressions on their faces. He appreciated their concern, but was ready to change the subject, so he waved a hand through the air as if waving the entire issue away, then said, pleadingly, "Can we just get back to work until then?"

Taylor seemed more than eager to, but Sharon answered, a small, almost proud smile tugging at her lips as she looked from Andy to her superior officer. "Yes, we can do that."

…

When Rusty finally arrived from school and, as usual, went straight to his cubicle, Andy quietly slipped out of the murder room to follow. Their investigation into the Pontiac would survive his absence for a few minutes, and he was probably much too eager to bring his foster son up to speed regarding Daniel Dunn to be of any use to his team right now anyway.

By the time he caught up with him, Rusty had already deposited his backpack on the desk and taken a seat. Not wanting to startle him, Andy leaned a shoulder against the wall once he turned the corner and gently rapped his knuckles against the hard surface to announce his presence.

Rusty was startled anyway. He instantly whirled around, wide-eyed, but quickly relaxed at the sight of Andy shaking his head at himself. "Hey, Andy."

"Hi, Kid," Andy pushed off the wall and took a few steps further into the cubicle and took a seat opposite of him. "Didn't mean to scare you," he said apologetically, but Rusty just waved him off. "How was school?"

Rusty didn't dignify that with a verbal response. Instead, he gave him a bland look, then rolled his eyes, effectively summing up his uneventful school day. Andy would have chuckled at the typical teenage reaction if not for the still painful looking bruise around his eye and the scab that had formed over the cut on his lip. The sight of that only got his blood boiling again and reminded him of the topic Rusty was quick to bring up with his next sentence. "You hear from my sperm donor yet?"

Andy leaned back in his chair and slowly nodded. "He came by a few hours ago."

Rusty's eyes went wide again. "He did?" he asked in surprise. "So ignoring his calls and messages _was_ the way to go?"

The utter astonishment in the kid's voice had Andy glare at him, unimpressed. "Nice to know you had faith in my plan," he muttered, but his sarcasm was belied by the way his gaze softened, and half a smile quirked the corners of his mouth upwards.

Rusty smirked. "I thought it was your Captain's plan."

Andy grunted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. It had been the Captain's plan indeed. Had they dealt with this the way his first instincts told him to, by now Daniel Dunn would have been in lock up, sporting a few nasty bruises himself. "Be that as it may," he said pointedly, "your father came by wanting to apologize."

"Apologize?" Rusty scoffed, then dropped his gaze to the desk and started fiddling with one of the straps on his backpack. "Because that'll make all of this," he waved a hand at the injured side of his face, "much better."

"Well," Andy said at length, straightening and planting his hands on the desk, waiting a beat for Rusty to look at him, "just like we'd hoped we would, we got him on tape admitting to what he's done, so," he offered Rusty an encouraging smile, "that actually _should_ make everything better."

"You mean," Rusty's hand stilled and he let go of his backpack, "we have evidence that could put him behind bars for what he did, no questions asked."

"Or that can push him into a corner like we discussed."

Rusty sighed. Those had been the two solutions Andy's boss had come up with that evening he returned from Daniel—either arrest him and press charges, or get him to back off once and for all by merely threatening to do so. Rusty knew that Andy had originally been inclined to go with the first option, but after talking it out with his partner and the Captain, he had started leaning toward the second. Despite his own inclinations, however, what they would ultimately do, Andy had left up to Rusty, and since he was most definitely not in the mood to become a witness in another case, the course of action seemed fairly obvious to him and he told them as much. He just found it strange to be advised on what to do, rather than being outright _told_ what to do as had been the case for the majority of his life, and that was something he was still trying to wrap his head around. "I just want this to be over as soon as possible," he finally said, hating the whining, helpless undertone to his words, but he couldn't help it. He was desperate for things to return to normal, even if he wasn't quite sure what 'normal' really entailed. All he knew was that he prefered the situation as it was before all the uncertainty that came with Daniel Dunn showing up at the PAB a few days ago.

"Then," Andy tapped his fingers against the desk with finality and relaxed in his chair, "all you have to do is show up here tomorrow at 4 pm and it will be."

Rusty took to fiddling with the hem of his shirt, his eyes firmly set on the nervous movement of his fingers. "I was kinda hoping not to have to see him again," he admitted.

Andy was well aware of that. He wasn't too keen on facing the guy again either, but probably for vastly different reasons than Rusty. For example, he doubted Rusty had to fight the urge to plant Daniel's face into a wall like he did. "It beats having to see him several times in court," he offered on a shrug.

Rusty nodded. "I know."

The defeated tone had Andy frown in puzzlement. "Unless," he hesitated, taking a second to clear his throat, "you changed your mind and want us to arrest him after all?" He knew that, as much as Rusty wanted to just get rid of Daniel and not deal with him anymore, he also struggled with the idea of Daniel possibly doing what he had done to him to somebody else. It was a bit of a moral dilemma for him as well, but in the end he took comfort in the fact that signing his rights away would not fly with Daniel's fiance, and that DCFS would continue to look into the matter even long after the ink on the papers was dry. Now, however, Andy worried that perhaps Rusty wasn't as assured with it as he was, and that he was second-guessing things.

Rusty's head snapped up. "No," he said loudly, shaking his head vigorously. Returning his voice to a more appropriate volume, he added insecurely, "But are you sure this is gonna work?"

Andy relaxed a little. "Trust me, Kid," he suddenly grinned, but the threat in his voice was unmistakable, "Daniel Dunn won't know what hit him."

"And I stay with you?" Rusty asked, looking Andy's way, but not making eye contact.

The question immediately renewed Andy's musings about taking steps to make his role in Rusty's life more permanent and more legally binding. Perhaps, after they force Daniel to relinquish his parental rights, it will be time to let Rusty in on those thoughts. He was starting to hope that, in light of all the uncertainties they had been facing these past few days, he might welcome the idea and would not misinterpret his intentions. "And," Andy started pointedly, waiting a beat until Rusty finally met his eyes to flash him a reassuring smile, "you stay with me." He punctuated his answer with a resolute nod of his head.

Nervously, but visibly more reassured, for the tension in his shoulders faded away and they sagged in obvious relief, Rusty returned his smile. "Okay then." He started nodding his head, growing more confident with each nod. "Tomorrow, 4 pm, we get this over and done with."

. . .

" _Now, this is the best deal we've done so far." Provenza pointed towards the Captain and gave her a very narrowed look despite the smile that formed on his mouth. "I think this calls for a celebration."_

" _What kind of celebration, Sir?" Julio asked skeptically, hoping the older Lieutenant remembered that they couldn't take Rusty out for a beer._

" _We're all going out and Flynn's gonna buy us burgers," Provenza responded in a tone that indicated it was the obvious answer._

" _What?" Andy practically shrieked when he whirled around to look at his partner. "How is it that your plans always end up costing me money?"_

That was how Rusty found himself sitting at his favorite burger place with the entire Major Crimes squad. They were crowded around the three tables that had been pushed together to accommodate them all, and the last hour was spent enjoying their burgers while everyone, but mostly Provenza, harassed Andy about one thing or another. Rusty had joined in a few times, particularly when they gave Andy flak for ordering a veggie burger because he never passed up that opportunity, but mostly he had kept quiet and just observed. A lot had transpired over the last few hours and it was taking time for him to process it all.

"Are you not enjoying yourself?"

The question was spoken quietly and came from his left where the Captain was sitting at the end of the table. Much like himself, she had mostly been observing the interactions between everyone else, only chiming in when she was directly addressed.

"Huh?" Rusty murmured distractedly as he turned to look her. He shook his head as though to physically dispel the thoughts where his mind had lingered. Doing so seemed to allow for her question to finally register and he proceeded to answer before she had to restate it. "No, I am."

Sharon's eyes narrowed and she gave Rusty a scrutinizing look. "You're awfully quiet to be enjoying yourself."

"So are you," Rusty countered and pointed to her with the small, crunchy fry he held before popping it into his mouth.

Lifting her water glass to her lips to disguise the small smile threatening to form, Sharon simply hummed in response, not wanting to concede his point that she hadn't engaged in much of the conversation either. She was also not willing to let him distract her so easily in an attempt to avoid the topic at hand. Knowing that she had prompted him enough with her initial question, she lowered her glass and patiently waited for him to continue. She was pleased when she didn't have to wait all that long.

"It's...it's just—" Rusty stammered as he struggled to put into words what he was feeling. He glanced nervously in the direction where the team was still laughing and joking about something Provenza said before looking back at Sharon, then ultimately dropping his gaze down to his lap as he continued in a low voice. "Is it weird that we're celebrating me becoming an orphan? I mean, I never thought I would feel this relieved, this, this," he nervously rubbed his hands over his jean-clad thighs, "happy to not have a family." He looked up at her through his lashes and smiled sheepishly. "But I am."

"Rusty," Sharon sighed and smiled encouragingly at him, "you might not have a mom and dad, but you do have a family." She cautiously reached a hand out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "Sometimes a family is one you choose," she looked at each member of the team in turn, but ultimately her eyes landed on Andy, "or just maybe they choose you."

"Yeah," Rusty said thoughtfully as his gaze followed Sharon's.

He was slowly beginning to realize just what the Captain was saying. Although Andy had played the prominent role in his life recently, the entire squad had really stepped up for him. When he entered the conference room with Andy that afternoon, he was surprised to find Buzz, Lieutenant Tao, and Detectives Sanchez and Sykes already waiting. The Captain and Lieutenant Provenza had joined them with Daniel in tow, and every single one of them helped him stand up to Mr. Dunn. Helped him to leave his biological family behind so that he could make room for the one he chose. For the one that chose him.

It was a lot for him to take in just then, especially being surrounded by so many people. He was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by all the emotions he was feeling at the moment. When he turned to look back at the Captain, she was smiling at him knowingly. It was then that he also realized he wasn't the only one that had been determining how to fit into a new life. She had just taken over Major Crimes at the same time he was dropped into their laps. Rusty had observed how the team had been less than receptive to her presence, and he had also observed how their attitude towards her had changed in the following months. Much like his, their opinion of her had definitely shifted. There was a respect for her that they didn't have before and Rusty thought she may still be figuring out how to respond to it all. He was also fairly certain that none of the team, except for maybe Andy as she helped him navigate the chaos of Daniel Dunn, had got a glimpse at the real Sharon yet like he had. Rusty considered the fact that in order for that to happen she may just need a little nudge the same way she nudged him. After all, she was one of the main reasons he had decided to give into his fears and trust Andy, to accept the help that he and the rest of the team were so selflessly offering him.

"You know," Rusty gave Sharon a cheeky smile, "I think you just might've have been chosen, too."

Sharon opened her mouth to speak, but then immediately snapped it closed again. Pressing her lips in a thin line, she tilted her head from side to side as she mulled over Rusty's words. After a brief moment, she righted her head once again as she looked directly at Rusty. "Maybe so," she said with a shrug that she hoped conveyed indifference. If Rusty's indulgent huff of laughter was any indication, she was not quite successful.

Thankfully for her, Rusty wasn't given much longer to be smug about his revelation for the mention of his name drew both of their attention.

"Rusty," Amy paused to make sure she had his attention. "Who's your favorite team?"

"My favorite team?" Rusty asked confused, having not been focusing on their recent conversation.

"I think they're discussing baseball," Sharon murmured softly to him, indicating that she had at least been half listening.

"Oh," Rusty waved off the question with disinterest, "I don't watch baseball."

"What?" Provenza practically shouted from his seat at the farthest end of the table. His look of shock transformed to a glare when he turned to look at his partner. "The kid has been living with you for at least two months and he doesn't watch baseball!"

"How is this all of a sudden my fault?" Andy threw up his hands in defeat.

Rusty chuckled when the bickering between the two older men once again continued. He looked up at the Captain when he heard her giggling softly, too, and they shared a knowing smile. When they refocused on the two Lieutenants, Rusty realized Andy was looking their way. He must have caught their private exchange, for he nodded gratefully at her and she returned the nod with a small smile, too. Before returning his attention to his still yammering partner, Andy caught Rusty's eye and, over a crooked smile, winked at him knowingly. Caught off guard, Rusty just ducked his head and shook it. Yeah, he was choosing this crazy, abnormal family, and they were choosing him. It left him with a feeling of belonging that he had never experienced before.

-TBC-

* * *

A/N: If you have made it to the end of this incredibly long chapter, please leave us a review and let us know what you thought!

You should also know that we will be going on a bit of a hiatus for a while. We haven't changed our minds, we will be continuing this story, however, it is going to take some time for us to rack up enough season 2 chapters so that we can resume our more or less regular weekly updates. We hope you will be patient and more importantly that you will continue to read this story once we're ready to start posting again. Until then… ta-ta!


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